


The Desire of Love

by DynamicThesaurus, orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Action, Agape, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Eros - Freeform, Fluff, Heartbreak, Heists, Hurt, Implied Sexual Content, Lots of things happen, Love, M/M, Organized Crime, Police Detective, Robbery, Romance, Viktor spelt with a k, Violence, criminals, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DynamicThesaurus/pseuds/DynamicThesaurus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: How do you catch a group of criminals that leave no fingerprints, no evidence, have never been photographed or videotaped, and don't make mistakes?The answer is; with great difficulty, Viktor Nikiforov soon realises.But drawing the line between lover and traitor, friend and enemy, and the innocent and guilty is a lot harder than tracking down any number of criminals; something that Viktor realises a little too late.





	1. The Beginning

“I want to be a detective.”

Yakov Feltsman glanced up over the top of the file, his eyes narrowing as he arranged the flimsy pieces of paper into a neat pile once again.

“Yes, you’ve made that clear. What I don’t understand is why. What’s your motivation for joining the police?”

When he had first taken a look at the profile, Yakov had been both irritated and confused by it. The motivation for becoming a police detective written down was deliberately ambiguous, and for what reason? Everyone had their secrets and own personal motives, but surely answering a simple question wouldn’t be a breach on that.

The man sitting opposite him seemed to think so. Viktor Nikiforov; 28 years of age, Russian heritage, with the sort of smug charm that had no doubt won him many favours over the years, and the most frustratingly cryptic smile Yakov had seen in a long time. It was as if he enjoyed deliberately vexing his superiors, which was most likely the reason why he had graduated so late from police training in the first place.

Yakov had heard his fair share about Nikiforov from both his underlings and his superiors. He wasn’t a good listener. He did things on gut feelings rather than solid facts. It was a mystery that he’d gotten into training in the first place, let alone passed through it.

Even more shockingly, Yakov was seriously considering employing him.

Nikiforov pursed his lips and broke the steady eye contact he’d been maintaining with Yakov to look up at the ceiling in thought. He seemed to consider his answer, before responding. “I want to be part of the Eros investigation.”

Yakov raised an eyebrow. So, another one. He prepared himself for a very short interview.

“The Eros investigation?” Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms. “Surely you’re aware of how many people have quit?”

The satirical grin disappeared from Nikiforov’s lips immediately, solemnity taking over his expression. “Yes, I am. That’s why I want to be a part of it.”

Yakov frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Nikiforov sighed, pressing a single digit to his mouth in what Yakov assumed was some sort of involuntary thinking gesture. “Ah, how do I put it…?”

Yakov waited as patiently as he could whilst Nikiforov thought, tapping his fingers against his forearm. The Eros investigation was perhaps one of the most hated within Yakov’s police force, due to the fact it was, apparently, unsolvable. Many detectives who came into the force hoping to take on the Eros case soon gave up upon realising the insurmountability of the task. Yakov had seen it time and time again over the few years that the case had cropped up, and Nikiforov was undoubtedly no exception.

“I admire Eros.”

Yakov narrowed his eyes. He was used to the newbies, fresh from training, blathering on about justice and morals and how somebody needed to take Eros down, but this was a first.

Suddenly, Nikiforov was a lot more interesting.

Nikiforov chuckled and leaned back in his chair, undoubtedly looking for a way to explain himself. “I just find the case fascinating,” he continued, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “How is it that there’s never been a single photograph or video of them, only eyewitness accounts? How is it that there’s no fingerprints or forced signs of entry, or any solid proof apart from that small piece of card with a heart on? It’s always fascinated me, which is why I want to catch them.”

Yakov could say in all certainty that he hadn’t heard that one before. He watched Nikiforov intently, thinking. There was a hard determination in his eyes that Yakov found endearing, and a confidence in his voice that reminded him of when he himself first joined the force, all those years ago.

Maybe that was what finally made Yakov sigh, massage his temple between forefinger and thumb, and say; “Fine. You’re hired.”

Nikiforov’s expression brightened and he stood, giving a little bow of his head. “Thank you, Sir.”

Yakov peered up at him, still not entirely convinced. “I’m warning you now, Nikiforov, it’s not going to be easy.”

However, sobriety remained in the others eyes, even as the smile returned to his lips. “Then I’ll have to try my best, Sir.”

With that, Nikiforov nodded to him again and turned to leave, scooping up his jacket from where he had discarded it over the back of his chair. Folding it over his arm, meeting Yakov’s gaze one last time, he grinned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an investigation to attend to.”

Yakov stared at the door for a few minutes after Nikiforov had disappeared, before shaking his head. He picked up the profile and turned around in his office chair to the filing cabinet by the window, opening a drawer with practised ease. Yakov flicked through a few files before fitting Nikiforov’s own into place, shutting the drawer and locking it firmly. He turned back around to stare at the door once more, letting out a low sigh.

“Kids these days…” he mumbled under his breath.

 

* * *

 

 

“So you’re Nikiforov, are you?”

Viktor looked up, recoiling when he realised a face was merely centimetres from his own.

“Yes?” He replied, though it sounded more like a question than an answer itself.

The other male chuckled and perched himself on the edge of Viktor’s desk, crossing one leg over the other and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. His grin was enticing, almost provocative. “Nice to meet you. I’m Christophe Giacometti, but you.” He looked Viktor up and down lazily. “You can call me Chris.”

“Hello,” Viktor responded slowly, shifting back in his chair.

Amused, Chris leaned a little closer. “Yakov told me there was a new face on the team, but I didn’t expect you to be so handsome.”

Viktor blinked up at him with a slight frown, but Chris just laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing,” he purred with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m the one who’ll be working with you on the Eros case.”

“I see…” Viktor paused, eyebrows furrowing. “Where are the others?”

“Others?” Chris responded with a matching frown, before realising what Viktor meant. He shook his head. “There aren’t any others. Just me, and now you.”

When Viktor replied, his voice let slip his confusion. “Everyone else has given up?”

He had been aware that many had quit the Eros investigation, of course, but he had thought there would be more than one other man working on it.

Chris nodded with a sigh, eyes trailing to the floor. “After the last heist, the other detectives quit. They found it too impossible and thought there’d be better things to do with their time rather than chase some sort of phantom. I’m the last one working on it.”

Viktor blinked, before glancing around the rest of the office. Dedicated solely to the Eros case, and he supposed that said something for the importance of it to the police, however he counted at least five other desks aside from his that were bare of anything but computers. Perhaps he’d underestimated how difficult this case would actually be…

“Still ready to take on the case?” Chris asked, though with less confidence this time. Viktor thought he understood; he was probably used to this after all, and it must be disheartening to watch detective after detective quit and be the only one still willing to track down Eros.

Viktor looked back up at Chris again and nodded. “Yes. I don’t plan on quitting until I’ve caught Eros.”

Something flickered across Chris’s face, so fast Viktor thought he might have imagined it, but then it was gone. He grinned, charming again. “Good! I’m glad to have you on board.”

Viktor returned his smile, before placing both hands on the desk and moving back in the chair to look at the other fully. “What have you got on the case?”

Chris brightened and slid off the desk, gesturing for Viktor to wait there. He returned moments later with a folder - worryingly thin, thought Victor, for a case as established as this one - and placed it before him with a rueful smile.

“This is all we have on the case, unfortunately…” Chris said, resuming his perch once more. “It’s mostly the things that have already been released to the public.”

“You don’t have any suspects?” Viktor asked, genuinely surprised, as he flicked through the folder.

Chris shook his head. “None. Who could we suspect? No fingerprints, no evidence, absolutely nothing. It’s like ghosts came and went.”

Viktor hummed in response, pausing when he came across a piece of paper with hurried scribbling down on it. “What’s this?”

The other male let out a noise of recognition and took the piece of paper from Viktor, standing up. “This is what I’ve been working on. The meanings.”

At Viktor’s bewildered expression, Chris chuckled. “Ok, let’s review the case.”

He took a step back, his earlier nonchalance slipping away. When he spoke, his voice was jarringly cold.

“A few years ago, a group of criminals show up and commit what was the smoothest crime to date. All the cameras in the entire area went down, there were no photographs or videos taken of them and only eyewitness accounts of what happened.

“These criminals are soon known as Eros’s gang, going by the names of Philautia, Philia, Ludus, Agape, Pragma and, of course, Eros. The only evidence left at the scene of the crime is a piece of paper with a heart on, and the name ‘Eros’ in the middle of it. This started a whole investigation. There have been a number of heists since then with the same results each time- no photographs or videos, sketchy eyewitness accounts and no evidence apart from the little card.”

Chris then held up the piece of paper. “Everyone has been focused on the eyewitnesses and cameras, however I’ve been thinking more abstractly. The six names are, as we know from the news, the six types of love.”

Viktor nodded in affirmation. That much he knew already; it was a popular story within the media, not least of all due to the group’s choice of alias.

“So I looked a little deeper into the names,” Chris continued. “Philia is the love shown in friendship. Ludus is love shown in childhood. Philautia is love of the self. Pragma is love in marriage or long relationships. Agape is innocent love, and Eros is sexual love.”

It was then that Chris sighed and placed the paper down on Viktor’s desk. “I feel like it means something, but what? I tried talking to the Chief about it but he dismissed it since there’s no lead.”

Viktor remained quiet, studying the piece of paper with his eyebrows knitted. Chris was right; the names must have some sort of significance, but what? Eros wouldn’t have given it to them on a whim, not somebody that cunning…

Still, with no lead, it was all but useless.

“We can keep it in mind, but there’s not much we can do with it now,” Viktor said, replacing it in the folder.

Chris nodded in understanding, placing one hand on his hip. He pursed his lips and looked Viktor up and down again, lips curling upward. “I think I’m going to look forward to working with you on this, Nikiforov.”

There was a pause, and Viktor looked up at him again. “Me too.”

The other man simply smiled at him before checking his watch. “Do you want coffee? Then we can put our heads together and see if we can figure anything out.”

Viktor nodded, curbing his enthusiasm to keep professional. “Please. I have a few ideas that I can tell you about when you get back.”

“I’ll await patiently,” Chris replied, bowing mockingly, before turning on his heel and leaving the office.

Viktor watched him go, then turned back to the papers. It was easy to see why the detectives had quit so early; there really were no leads on the Eros case, no matter which way you looked at it. No fingerprints. No videos. No disruptions. No mistakes.

This was going to be interesting.

 

* * *

 

 

Pragma had never liked the meeting place.

It was far too cold and dreary for his liking, not to mention the fact that he could barely see from the lack of lighting. He was blind as he felt around for the handle of the warehouse door, willing the hinges not to squeak as he slid it open and slipped inside.

The musk of the adjoining corridor was sickly sweet and earthy. Nobody ever came into this particular part of the grounds, which was undeniably why Eros had chosen it in the first place. Eros was a perfectionist, after all; he didn’t allow for mistakes. Perhaps that was what made him both terrifying and admirable, to Pragma at least.

Pragma nearly yelped when something shifted in the darkness of the hall, his arms coming up automatically in defence. Little strips of light from the warehouse nearby shone through the gaps in the nearby window, the other person stepping into the light with a wicked smirk.

“What are you doing- skulking like that?” Pragma hissed, lowering his arms.

Agape simply snorted, hair falling to cover his eyes as he sneered. “Eros told me to wait for you, since the meeting’s already started. What’s your excuse this time?”

Pragma avoided his gaze and instead continued walking, hearing Agape’s light footfalls soon after. They carried on in silence for the next few minutes until Pragma very nearly walked into the adjoining door, mumbling a curse under his breath before opening it.

Inside, a single lamp shone, just enough to see by without being noticeable from outside. In Pragma’s eyes, it gave the room an added sense of mystery; casting looming shadows over the walls and in the corners, giving the faces of its inhabitants the look of ghouls.

“Sorry I’m late,” Pragma apologised as Agape shut the door behind them, leaning against the wall by Ludus. “I got caught up.”

He was acutely aware of Eros’ eyes on him, their sharpness offsetting his soft features. There were a few beats of silence before his gaze travelled to Ludus, Agape, and finally to Philautia and Philia on the opposite side of the room.

“So, what’s this about?” Philautia asked, unfazed.

Eros sat up straighter, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “I want to do another heist.”

A groan came from Philia, his head hitting the wall behind him.

“You’re serious?” Philautia worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Do you realise how much time and effort goes into this stuff? Not to mention money-”

Agape scoffed. “You’re one to talk about money, asshole.”

“I’m sure Eros wouldn’t do anything without a purpose,” the usually quiet Ludus interjected, silencing the response Philautia no doubt had on his lips. “You should know that by now.”

Silence took over the room again, before Philia spoke.

“I trust Eros’ judgement. Besides, it’s not as if you won’t get the money back,” he added to Philautia.

“It might not be easy to get away with it, though.”

All eyes in the room turned to Pragma, who kept his gaze on Eros. “There’s a new detective on the force that even Feltsman couldn’t keep out. He seems keen to put us all in custody.”

“Is that so?” The interest was clear within Eros’s tone as he sat forward. “His name?”

“Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov.”

“Viktor Nikiforov,” Eros repeated, his accent curling around the letters leisurely as though testing what it sounded like. “Will he be a threat?”

“It’s more than likely.”

Eros let out a low exhale and drummed his fingers against the tabletop, looking at Pragma again. “Then we’ll have to take extra care. We can’t afford any mistakes this time.”

Agape visibly winced, fingers curling into fists by his sides. Eros took no notice, still focused on Pragma as his lips slowly curved into a smile.

“It sounds like things are going to get interesting.”


	2. Heist

“You know,” Chris mused, taking a sip of his coffee. “What I don’t get is Eros’ motive.”

Viktor looked up at him from the papers on his desk that he’d been poring over, eyebrows furrowing. “His motive?”

Chris nodded, eyes moving from Viktor to the door in thought. “Nobody is born a criminal. There must be a reason behind all of this.”

“He could just be in it for the money,” Viktor suggested, sitting back in his chair and stretching his arms from their cramped position. Nearly a week had passed since he had been accepted into the force, and the two of them had spent that time reviewing every piece of information they had in minute detail. A few times, Viktor had found something he thought could be a clue, only for it to be short-lived when it led to a dead end.

Needless to say, he was already beginning to get frustrated.

“I don’t know…” Chris replied unsurely, blowing into his mug before taking another long sip. “He just doesn’t strike me as that type of person.”

Viktor considered it. “If not the money, then what?”

Chris hummed, turning his gaze to Viktor again. There was something unreadable in his eyes, like he was staring straight through him. “Perhaps he’s doing it as a favour to the others. Maybe-”

A sharp knock at the office door made them both look up in surprise. One of Yakov’s underlings, Georgi Popovich, appeared around the side of the door, his lips pressed into a flat line.

“Nikiforov, Giacometti, are you busy?”

Chris snorted and put his coffee down.

“Is anything wrong?” Viktor asked, tone serious as he turned towards him. It had both amused and intrigued Viktor to find out that Popovich was, quite literally, a day younger than himself; however, he had undoubtedly clawed his way up the ranks in the force and was now their immediate superior- straight under Yakov himself.

“There’s a young man in the interview room whose things have been stolen.” Popovich stepped fully into the doorway to look at both Chris and Viktor. “He keeps insisting that it’s important and refuses to leave until we take it seriously.”

“You want us to interview him?” Chris raised an eyebrow, sliding off Viktor’s desk.

A nod. “Please. We have other pressing matters.”

“Don’t worry.” Chris offered him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Thank you.”

When he was gone, Viktor sighed, letting his head fall back against the chair. “The others don’t believe this case can be solved, do they?”

Chris shook his head, reaching over Viktor’s desk to finish the rest of his coffee. “No. That’s why we’re the only two working on it.”

Viktor stood, shuffling the documents into a pile and replacing them within the folder, before he turned back to Chris.

“Alright, let’s go see what this young man wants.”

 

* * *

 

 

The interview room, though it contained only three chairs and a table with the voice recorder, unnerved Viktor. It was too pristine for his own tastes, though he supposed it was effective in intimidating.

This showed immensely through the young man Popovich had mentioned: seated at one end of the table with a glass of water, anxiously nibbling at his lower lip. He was handsome, Viktor noted, with soft, rounded features and brandy wine eyes. A mess of black hair and thick glasses.

He looked up when Chris and Viktor entered, wetting his reddened lips with the tip of his tongue.

“Good evening,” Chris greeted, taking a seat in front of the male. “I’m detective Giacometti and this is detective Nikiforov. We’ll be interviewing you.”

“Hello,” the other responded politely, his voice betraying nervousness as he looked from one detective to the other, gaze lingering on Viktor.

Chris reached over and switched the voice recorder on. “Let’s start with your name.”

“It’s Yuuri. Yuuri Katsuki.”

Chris hummed and shifted in his chair, crossing his arms. “Ok, Mr. Katsuki, can you tell us what happened?”

“Um...” Katsuki’s gaze fell to his hands, fingers running over his knuckles, as he swallowed thickly. “Well, I… I was walking home on my way back from work. I have to walk down a busy street, you see, and I didn’t notice that someone was following me until I turned into an alley.” He paused, hands clasped tightly. “He pulled out a knife, and made me hand over my phone and wallet...”

“Was there anything of great value in your wallet?”

“Yes,” Katsuki said, voice increasingly panicked. He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking slightly. “I was paid this morning, and my family needs the money. I don’t know what I’ll do if-”

“Mr. Katsuki,” Chris said gently, interrupting the rising note of hysteria. “Please calm down. We’ll try our best to retrieve it.”

Viktor’s eyebrows came together in a frown. The likelihood of retrieving Katsuki’s belongings was a fraction of a percentage, especially if a card wasn’t used. The city was by no means small.

However, much to Viktor’s surprise, Chris was undeterred. “Can you remember what your attacker looked like?”

Katsuki pursed his lips, forehead creasing in thought. “He... he had short brown hair that just reached his ears, and blue eyes. He was young...fourteen or fifteen, maybe? Medium build. He was wearing a dark hoodie and jeans.”

“Anything else?”

Katsuki was quiet for a moment, before shaking his head. “That’s all I can remember.”

“We’ll try our best to find him.” Chris scratched his cheek in thought. “If he uses your card or personal details we can track him, as well as check through any nearby security footage. If you remember anything else that you think is important, don’t hesitate to contact us.”

Gratefulness lit up Katsuki’s eyes and he looked down shyly. “Thank you. I really mean it.”

“It’s no problem,” Viktor said quickly. He’d been so intrigued by how Chris handled the interview that he’d forgotten to say something. It was at times like this that Chris’ experience was made obvious, and his technique never failed to fascinate him.

Chris cast a sideways glance at him, before he stood. “Thank you for contacting us, Mr. Katsuki.”

Viktor stood as well, turning to leave, before Katsuki’s voice stopped him. “Wait!”

The two detectives turned back to him and he seemed to shrink back, as if realising his voice had been louder than initially intended. Chris raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I’m nervous about going home alone, after what happened,” Katsuki said, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly. “I was, um… wondering if one of you could escort me?”

Before Viktor could think to answer, Chris was already speaking. “Certainly. Detective Nikiforov was just about to leave, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind escorting you.”

Viktor opened his mouth to protest - there were still a few documents to go over - but Katsuki’s hopeful expression made him falter.

Instead, he nodded. “Of course.”

Inexplicable warmth spread through his chest at Katsuki’s relieved smile.

 

* * *

 

 

Katsuki lived further away than Viktor had anticipated; out of reach of the busy throng of city life. This didn’t mean that it prevented any traffic, however, and within a few minutes of leaving the station Viktor found himself at a standstill.

He tapped his fingers on the leather of the wheel impatiently, resting his head back against the headrest. Katsuki hadn’t said much to him except to express his gratitude, simply content to stare out of the window at the marvellous buildings that rose up around them. Though the peaceful silence between them was nice, he wouldn’t deny that it was beginning to get dull.

To his surprise, it was Katsuki who broke the silence first. “What made you become a detective?”

Viktor looked over to find Katsuki staring at him, albeit timidly, eyes filled with curiosity. He became conscious of his gaze and quickly turned his head away in embarrassment, but paused at the sound of Viktor’s voice.

“Have you heard of the Eros case?”

Viktor realised that it wasn’t the smartest choice of question; everybody in the city and further had heard of Eros, so of course Katsuki had heard of him. Nonetheless, he merely nodded, eyes going back to Viktor.

Taking his interest as a prompt to continue, Viktor smiled. “That’s what inspired me.”

“Eros inspired you?” Katsuki asked with a frown that mirrored Yakov’s a week previously.

Viktor chuckled and looked back out of the window again. “Yes. I’ve always admired Eros. I became a detective because I want to catch him.”

Yuuri seemed to consider it, blinking slowly in thought. Then, he nodded in understanding. “There is a lot to admire about Eros.”

A smile ghosted Viktor’s lips. “After seeing how many people had given up, it made me even more determined to catch him.”

“You’re very dedicated.”

Viktor glanced at him. Their eyes met for a second or two, before Katsuki looked away again to the buildings outside of the car. Viktor wanted to say something, however his concentration was diverted as the traffic began to move.

“My superior was very confused when I told him that was my motivation for joining the police,” he told Katsuki when the traffic came to a standstill once again.

Katsuki’s laugh was soft and clear. “I can imagine. It’s not everyday you hear a member of the police admires a criminal.”

Viktor grinned. “He looked at me like I was insane.”

“What did he say after that?”

“He...” Viktor paused as he took a left-hand turn into a clearer street, away from the slow-moving traffic, before continuing. “He rubbed his head before saying fine, he’d hire me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katsuki smile, pulling up the collar of his thick jacket. “Does that mean you’re working on the Eros case?”

Viktor hummed. “Detective Giacometti and I.”

Katsuki seemed intrigued. “Have you found anything yet?”

“Not yet. I’m sure we’re close.”

The other man turned to look out of the window again, letting out a languid sigh. “Both of you seem very dedicated. I’m sure you’ll be able to catch Eros.”

Pride swelled in Viktor’s chest at the words. “Thank you.”

A short time later, Viktor found himself pulling up outside Katsuki’s house. It was squat and small; the brickwork weathered and paint stripped off of the window frames, but it seemed homely and warm. A little like Katsuki himself.

“Again, thank you for taking me home,” Katsuki said, turning to Viktor. “I’ll be sure to call in if I remember anything about my attacker.”

Viktor nodded, frowning at Katsuki’s driveway. He didn’t see a car or any other mode of transport, which meant Katsuki would have to walk. “Isn’t walking there dangerous, though? Especially after what happened?”

Katsuki exhaled. “I don’t have a car, so it’s really the only way I can get there. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Viktor’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel once more, his frown deepening. He then reached into his pocket and took his phone out, handing it to a wide-eyed Katsuki.

“You don’t have a phone,” Viktor explained. “I have an old one at home I can use.”

“Are you sure?” Katsuki asked uncertainly, to which Viktor nodded. “I can’t accept this without giving you something in return.”

Viktor waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”

“Please.”

Viktor pursed his lips at Katsuki’s stubborn expression. Well...

“You could buy me coffee,” he suggested.

“I’d love to,” Katsuki said, voice brighter as he latched onto the idea. “I don’t work on Sunday, if you’re free?”

“Sunday’s perfect.”

Katsuki undid his seatbelt and got out of the car. Before he closed the door, he leaned in once more and gave Viktor a warm smile.

“Until then, detective.”

The door slammed shut before Viktor could say another word, leaving him to watch the figure of Katsuki walk up to his house: giving the detective a shy wave before disappearing inside.

For a few minutes afterwards, Viktor stared at the faded door in thought. Perhaps he’d been a little too kind towards Yuuri Katsuki; he was merely a victim after all, relying on Viktor to get back his belongings. Then again, there was something about Katsuki that was endearing; he was skittish and shy, along with very polite and respectful, and Viktor liked it.

He found himself waiting for Sunday in anticipation.

 

* * *

 

 

With a clack, the back door to the jewellery shop opened; hitting the wall behind it gently.

Agape let out a breath, cautiously stepping inside with Ludus close behind him. All was quiet: the silence sending an involuntary shudder up Agape’s spine as he delicately placed a finger to his ear.

“What’s the situation?”

Philia’s voice came immediately from the in-ear receiver. “The cameras and alarms are down. You’ve got roughly fifteen minutes until they switch back on again.”

“Got it. Outside status?”

“The street’s clear,” Philautia replied, nestling on a neighbouring roof and watching through the lens of his gun. “Thanks to me.”

“Whatever.”

“You know, a simple ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

“Fuck off.” Agape opened the bag that had been thrown over his shoulder and prowled along the many sections of the store. There was probably enough there to set at least two of them up for the next few years; but, much to Agape’s dislike, Eros strictly prohibited taking any more than what was needed.

“Don’t get photographed this time, Agape,” Philautia’s voice came again, smugly. “I’m further away so I can’t help you.”

“I didn’t get photographed,” Agape snapped, teeth grinding. The mistake he’d made during the last heist still stung whenever it was mentioned, and it frustrated Agape to no end that Philautia could tease him through it.

“You nearly did.”

“Come on, guys, play nice,” Philia said, ever the peacemaker, tapping away at his keyboard from the safety of the van. “Ok, you’re free to go.”

Both Ludus and Agape looked up as the door opened again, this time Eros walking through it with the elegance of a man that had done this a thousand times before, and could do it a thousand times again.

“Only take what I said,” Eros told them in an undertone, his eyes unwavering as they passed over the jewellery. “Leave everything else.”

Agape complied, holding the bag open as Ludus picked at the lock on one of the many cabinets. He grabbed a handful of the jewels inside and stuffed them into the bag, Agape following suit.

Eros observed them with mild interest, then turned his attention elsewhere as they moved onto the next cabinet.

“What else?” Agape asked when the door swung open.

Eros took a moment to think, casting his eyes over the rest of the shop. “The rings. Then we leave.”

“Seven minutes,” Philia’s voice came through the ear pieces. “Get whatever else you want and go.”

“Come on,” Agape muttered to Ludus as he jumped the counter to begin working at the lock the other side.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Philautia quipped with a chuckle. “Ludus knows what he’s doing.”

Agape snarled. “I swear to God, if you don’t shut up - ”

“Pedestrian!” Philautia’s voice suddenly broke the playful teasing, the urgency showing in his tone. “Coming from the East side, two o’clock!”

“How far?” Eros asked immediately, turning to look through the gaps in the shop window at the darkness outside.

“Three or four hundred meters!”

Agape looked up at Eros for orders, and was amazed by the fact he looked as cool and composed as ever. His silence Agape took as an answer, and he turned to hiss at Ludus.

“Hurry!”

“I’m trying!”

As soon as the cabinet swung open, both Agape and Ludus pounced on the jewellery, throwing them into the bag by the fistful.

“Two minutes.” Philia’s voice betrayed his nervousness, tone clipped and shaky.

“Get out of there!” Philautia cried. “He’s nearly outside the building!”

Agape cursed and tightened the bag, Ludus re-jumping the counter to join him in securing it. Eros opened the door again and allowed Agape and Ludus through first; running the second their feet hit the pavement.

“Back to the van,” Eros mumbled, voice steady as he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a card. Carelessly, he threw it into the shop and shut the door. He turned to follow Agape and Ludus, when Philautia’s voice stopped him.

“Eros!” Philautia yelped over the intercom. “Behind you!”

Eros turned around.

The pedestrian that had caused the sudden panic was stood at the end of the road, completely frozen. His eyes were widened in shock, jaw slack, hands loosely gripping a plastic bag.

Silence dragged on as he and Eros stared at each other, neither daring to do so much as breathe. Then Eros raised a finger to his lips, slowly. He winked at him and turned, sprinting after Ludus and Agape. As he did so, the alarm switched back on with a beep, followed by an ear shattering chorus of wails as it registered the unlocked door.

Nevertheless, by the time the police got there, Eros’ gang was long gone.

 

* * *

 

 

“No fingerprints, no evidence, no photographs, no videos, all the cameras in the area went down…” Viktor looked up at the jewellery shop sign with a frown. “And a card with a heart.”

He turned to look at Chris.  “This was Eros.”

“Undoubtedly,” Chris agreed, adjusting the mirrored sunglasses perched on his nose. He turned to the junior police officer beside them. “What was the damage this time?”

“Um…” The officer fiddled with a few sheets of paper. “Some things were missing, like watches, rings and diamonds, but a lot was left behind.”

“Left behind?” Viktor pursed his lips. This seemed to be a recurring theme with Eros; taking only certain things and leaving the rest. Was it out of crude kindness, or could there be another reason? “Any witnesses?”

The officer nodded, flipping to another page “One. His name’s Kenjirou Minami, seventeen years old, Japanese. He was coming home from a night out with friends. He said he saw them coming out of the shop.”

“Is he at the station?”

A nod. “He won’t stop talking about how he saw Eros.”

“Eros?” Chris frowned. “How did he know it was Eros?”

It was the officers turn to frown, staring down at the notebook in his hands. “He said “it just had to be”. He, uh, he says that Eros put a finger to his lips and winked at him, before running off after two others.”

“Did he say where?”

“No, Sir.”

“I see. Thank you, Officer Ji.” Chris turned to Viktor. “Shall we go inside?”

Once in the jewellery shop, Viktor sighed. Nothing was smashed; no signs of forced entry whatsoever. It was abnormally neat and precise, but what else could Viktor expect from a perfectionist?

“We already know there won’t be anything,” Chris said, voicing what Viktor was thinking. “There’s no point us being here. All we have is that Minami to go on with.”

“Do we trust him though?” Viktor looked at the other male skeptically. “You heard what he said; he swears he saw Eros. How does he know it was Eros, though? It sounds suspicious to me.”

Chris moved his sunglasses down to peer at Viktor over the top of them. “We should interview him ourselves. If he is lying or part of the scheme, I’m sure we could get it out of him.”

Viktor hummed, eyes trailing around the shop. He paused as the cones surrounding the card on the floor caught his eye- the heart with the signature ‘Eros’ on it; the telltale sign of the criminal group.

“Viktor?” Chris caught his line of sight and looked down at the card too. After a few seconds of silence, Chris pursed his lips. “I wonder… what made Eros choose ‘Eros’ as a name in the first place?”

Viktor looked up at him. That was a good point. Maybe it was something to do with-

Wait a second.

“Wait…” Viktor said suddenly, excitement flaring up in him as he held up a hand. “We know Eros, but how about the others?”

Chris blinked at him. “Huh?”

“The others!” Viktor exclaimed. “Philautia, Philia, Agape, Ludus and Pragma! Only Eros’ name is ever written down on the cards, so how do we know to call them that?”

Realisation dawned on Chris’s face. “That… Is a very good question.”

With a new sense of purpose, Viktor hurried out the door, followed closely by Chris.

Officer Ji, stationed out the front for the eyes of prying media along with officer De La Iglesia, looked up at them in confusion. “Is everything ok, detectives?”

“Ji!” Viktor said, stopping by the two startled officers. “Do you know who first started using the names of the criminals?”

Ji blinked, taken aback. “The criminals?” He paused, thinking. “Um…”

“Actually, I think it was the media,” De La Iglesia offered. “Blogs, newspapers - they started calling them the names, and they just sort of stuck.”

The excitement was evident in both Chris and Viktor.

“De La Iglesia, you’re a genius!”

Chris scrambled to get into the car along with Viktor, leaving the two other officers behind to confusedly ponder over their words.

“Viktor,” he said, turning to the other. “Please tell me this means we have a lead.”

Viktor nodded as Chris switched the car on. “We do.”

The car pulled away from the kerb, Chris’ fingers tapping impatiently on the wheel. “What are we going to do about it?”

Viktor thought for a moment. “You start interviewing Minami as thoroughly as you can to find out if he’s a suspect. I’ll search to see who started using these names first.”

He turned to Chris. “If I’m right about this…”

Chris hummed, changing gears, then tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “We’re going to find our first criminal within the media itself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, they have their first clue. Things are beginning to progress, and will do so more as we go on! It's quite exciting to write actually.
> 
> Thank you to all who commented/left kudos/bookmarked/read it! It makes both myself and Dynamic happy that people enjoy it! As I stated before, feel free to leave comments down below who you think the criminals real identities are! Some are obvious, but one or two are not so much. You'll just have to wait and see ;)
> 
> As a side note, we're hoping to update every Sunday/Monday, which gives us time to write and then edit it. Thank you for being so patient!
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> Charlie


	3. Suspicions

Since the names of the criminals had been used so frequently, Viktor had assumed that finding out their origin would be relatively easy. He realised now that he couldn’t have been more wrong.

There were so few documents on the Eros investigation that Viktor had turned to the web instead. There were pages after pages of theories and articles on Eros and his gang, yet not one of them provided a clue as to where the origin of the names came from. He knew the story was popular within the media, but it still surprised Viktor to find so many people discussing it. After the last heist, the popularity of the story had increased tenfold, and now it seemed as if half the world were talking about it. Most of them were more than glad to offer suggestions.

So many people quick to criticise, but only two working on the case itself.

From an outside perspective it seemed impossible, but from first hand experience Viktor knew how difficult this case was. It wasn’t big enough for the big guns to get involved, and so they left it to the detectives.

Chris had finished interviewing Minami hours ago and had come back grim-faced and irritable. Minami had been a lot more animated about the encounter with Eros than Chris had expected, and apparently had not stopped talking about how Eros had acknowledged him. He seemed completely entranced by it. Chris had ended up sending Minami home without questioning him as thoroughly as Viktor would have liked, but he didn’t push it. It was clear Minami wasn’t a suspect.

Which led them here in the early hours of the morning, going through each and every article on Eros.

Chris hadn’t gone home simply because he wanted to be there if Viktor found something, but exhaustion had finally caught up with him and he had fallen asleep, cheek pressed against his forearm and quiet snores filling the room.

Viktor could also feel fatigue creeping up on him, but pushed it aside. He was determined to find something, anything, and though the task was laborious, he was willing. More willing than anyone else.

Just as he was on the verge of stopping for the night, he found what he had been looking for.

The article dated back a few days after Eros’ first heist - over three years ago - which had captivated the media through the lack of anything that could be used to track them down. The mention of the names was so casual that Viktor had almost passed over it, if it wasn’t for the date. It looked like it had been specifically designed so that it looked like the author of the online article had picked it up elsewhere.

Rubbing furiously at his eyes, he read the article once more, before turning his attention to the author.

Just like that, he had a suspect.

At Viktor’s far from quiet noise of excitement, Chris stirred.

He blinked groggily at Viktor for a few seconds before yawning widely and stretching his arms above his head. “Found something?”

“We have a suspect,” Viktor said as calmly as he could, quickly typing the journalist's name into the search engine.

Chris leaned over the desk, staring at the computer screen in complete shock.

“I can’t believe you actually found something.”

Viktor grinned, grabbing a pen and paper and jotting down some notes. “I did say that I wouldn’t quit until I caught Eros.”

“And I completely believe you,” Chris said distractedly, nose pressed to the screen in wonder.

Then, he drew back with a frown. “This is exciting and all, but how are we going to go about this? We can’t exactly pounce on him and accuse him of being a criminal without solid proof.”

“We’ll have to interview him,” Viktor said as he put down the pen. “There’s every chance he’s not a part of it, but there’s also a chance that he is.”

He looked up at Chris, a newfound fire burning in his eyes. “And that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Chris returned his gaze, something in his eyes that Viktor couldn’t place, as he sat back and held out his hand for the paper. He studied it closely and gave a short nod.

“Ok. I trust you on this, and I just hope that you’re right.”

The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched. “So do I. But I guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves.”

Chris hummed and read the paper again before placing it in front of Viktor. “If there is the chance that he is part of Eros’ gang… I don’t know, I have a bad feeling.”

Viktor paused. “A bad feeling?”

Chris yawned again, rubbing his eye lazily. “Yeah… Eros is such a perfectionist, it just confuses me how we could already have a suspect. Don’t you find it strange?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it.” Viktor nibbled on his lower lip, thinking. “I guess it does seem strange.”

The other hummed, averting his eyes. “Eros is dangerous, we’ve got to be careful.”

“I know.” Viktor stood. “Let’s not worry about that for now, though. It’s time we go home.”  

 

* * *

 

 

The director had looked bewildered when Chris and Viktor suddenly showed up, demanding to speak to one of his journalists.

In fact, Viktor was half expecting him to protest from the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips twitched, like he wanted to say something but stopped himself. Instead, he drew in a breath and nodded.

“Ok,” he told them in a thickly accented voice. “I’ll get him.”

“He didn’t look happy,” Chris mumbled as the other man turned and left, just loud enough for Viktor to hear.

Viktor hummed in response, ignoring the curious stares of other journalists who hovered like vultures around a corpse. Policemen were bound to cause some sort of gossip - especially since, from what Viktor had read, their suspect was a well-renowned journalist within Celestino Cialdini’s media organisation.

His name was Phichit Chulanont, a twenty year old Thai male, who saw the world through his phone screen. He’d been working with Celestino since he was eighteen, and had built himself up from there. Social, charismatic, kind and good with conversation; a strong willed and determined young man who was well on his way to taking over Celestino in a few years.

He was the last person Viktor would have suspected. He seemed perfectly innocent, far too young and full of life.

It was possible he was Eros himself. He fitted the rough description of dark hair, dark eyes and a slender figure, but Viktor was skeptical. Though he was a suspicious character, something at the back of Viktor’s mind told him that even if he was part of the criminal group, he wasn’t Eros. Eros wouldn’t have been caught this easily.

Chris’s elbow in his side snapped him out of his thoughts, drawing him back to attention. Celestino was back, talking quietly to a young man who Viktor recognised immediately as Chulanont.

The journalist faltered when he saw Chris and Viktor, eyes widening, before his demeanour changed again and a bright smile lit up his face.

“Good afternoon, detectives,” he greeted when he reached them. “What can I do for you?”

Viktor studied him critically. “Mr. Chulanont, if you’d like to come with us.”

He looked taken aback, unsure of how to respond, but Celestino interrupted before he could speak. “What is this about?”

“We can’t disclose that,” Chris said smoothly, aware that Viktor was still inexperienced in these situations. “But we ask that he comes with us.”

Celestino wasn’t deterred. He crossed his arms, eyebrows drawing together.

“I demand to know. He has a lot of work to do, and-”

A huff of laughter from Chulanont cut him off. “I won’t have anyone arguing at my expense.” He turned to the two detectives, a smile still on his lips. “I’ll come with you.”

Chris nodded and stepped aside, allowing Chulanont to pass by them. He looked over his shoulder at Celestino as he did so, giving him a short wave.

“Don’t worry, ciao ciao! I’ll be back soon. Just don’t let Sara near my work!”

Chris cleared his throat quickly and nodded to Celestino, before he and Viktor followed Chulanont.

“That was too easy,” Viktor said in an undertone, watching the journalist carefully as he paused outside, waiting for the two of them.

Chris hummed. “I agree. We’ll just have to be extra thorough in our interview. If we ask enough questions, I’m sure he’ll slip up somewhere.”

“Let’s hope he does.” Viktor sighed. “I don’t want to be the one to tell Celestino that we took his best journalist out of a day of work for nothing."

Chris scoffed in response. “I’m more worried about Yakov finding out.”

Viktor pictured Yakov’s face, beet red with annoyance and a mean furrow in his eyebrows, glaring down his nose as he berated them for being so reckless. Viktor was suddenly glad that he wasn’t a good listener.

“Yes, that will be an interesting conversation.”

They reached Chulanont, who smiled at them pleasantly. “Ok, detectives. Are we going to the station?”

“Yes, we are,” Viktor told him, unlocking the car door and opening it for him. “We’re going to ask you a few questions, that’s all.”

He shut the door when Chulanont had slid into the back seat, sitting in the front with Chris and giving him a curt nod.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”  

 

* * *

 

 

In no time, Viktor was in the interview room. Chris sat to his right and Phichit Chulanont on the other side of the desk, looking far too at ease there.

He completely contrasted Katsuki, Viktor noted, showing no signs of anxiety or nervousness. He maintained steady eye contact, a cool atmosphere about him, like he knew he was innocent and didn’t feel the need to prove it.

“We will begin the interview now, Mr. Chulanont,” Chris began, switching on the voice recorder. “Do you have any idea why you’re here?”

Chulanont shook his head. “No, Sir.”

Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest. “We suspect you’re involved with Eros.”

“What?” Chulanont blinked, dumbfounded. “Eros?”

“Yes, Eros,” Chris continued, glancing over at Viktor.

“Mr. Chulanont, you were the first individual to use the criminal’s pseudonyms." Viktor’s eyes narrowed. “Can you explain that?”

Chulanont stared at him, before laughing. “Of course! His name is Eros, so I did some research into the meaning behind the name and found out it came from one of the theoretical colours of love. Since there are six of them it would only make sense, wouldn’t it?”

Viktor faltered. He hadn’t thought about that. He’d been so excited that they had a lead that he hadn’t considered that possibility. It was completely sound logic, and the humiliation stung.

Chris glanced at his coworker, but didn’t let anything show in his voice or face.

“Would you know who Eros is?”

Chulanont shook his head. “No idea. I know as much as you from the descriptions, but there are a lot of people in the city who match it, so I can’t even give you potential names. I’ll be sure to tell you if anyone strikes me as suspicious.”

Viktor’s chest tightened. He was wrong.

Oh God, he felt stupid.

Chris must have sensed Viktor’s distress, and so stood. “If you’ll excuse us, detective Nikiforov and I will discuss this.”

He gestured with a nod of his head to the door and Viktor gratefully followed.

Once outside, he buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Chris, I’m an idiot...”

“Now hold on.” The tone of Chris’ voice made Viktor look up in surprise. It was unwavering and hard, like he hadn’t believed a single syllable that Chulanont had said. “I don’t trust him.”

“Why?” Viktor lowered his hands.

“Something is off about him.” Chris turned to look at him, nibbling on his lower lip. “We’ll go back in there and I’ll announce that we’re keeping him in holding for a night whilst we ask around. Then we can see what he does.”

Viktor hummed in thought. “Are you sure? He seems completely innocent.”

“That’s what makes me suspicious,” Chris replied. “Think about it; Eros would have given them an alibi, or he could have made one up. It just seems too coincidental.”

Viktor opened his mouth to protest, before deciding against it. Chris had a lot more experience and was used to these things, surely he would recognise if something was wrong. He just hoped he was right.

“Ok,” he said after a moment’s pause. Chris gave him a thankful smile, before pushing the door open to the room again.

Chulanont looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“Mr. Chulanont,” Chris said as he sat back down, lacing his fingers together on the table. “We’ve decided to put you in holding for a night.”

If Viktor hadn’t been watching, he would have missed it.

Something flashed in Chulanont’s eyes, something that looked suspiciously like fear and irritation.

Then it was gone, and he was back to his cool and collected self.

“In holding?” He asked, sounding annoyed. “What for? I’ve told you my story- I’m innocent!”

Chris gave a sympathetic shrug. “Then this will be the perfect way to prove your innocence.”

Chulanont paused. For several seconds there was silence, before he sighed and nodded in agreement. “Ok, fine. I’ll prove I’m innocent. You’ll have to call my boss, though.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Viktor said, internally wincing at the thought of having to tell Celestino.

Chulanont nodded with a grimace. “Thank you.”

He then looked at Viktor, his fingers fiddling idly with the hem of his shirt. “If I prove my innocence, will you let me go?”

Viktor nodded. “Of course. We haven’t got any reason to keep you otherwise.”

Chulanont seemed to contemplate it for a little while longer, before he nodded. “I’ll do it. One night in the holding cell whilst you check out anything. That’s it.”

Chris smiled, turning to Viktor.

“We’d better get started, then.”  

 

* * *

 

It was later that day, after watching Phichit in the holding cell for nearly six hours, that Chris decided to ask.

“So,” he said, turning his face so he could see Viktor from his position; lying flat on Viktor’s desk. “How was the drive with Katsuki the other day?”

Viktor looked up at him, bewildered. Why now? “It was decent.”

“Just decent?” Chris pressed, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand. That salacious smile was back. “Come on, he was a cute boy and you didn’t get his number?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that I’m into men?”

Chris snorted and shook his head. “Viktor. Dear, sweet, Viktor. It’s painfully obvious.”

“It is?” Viktor responded, confused.

Chris nodded. “A handsome bachelor like you? Suspicious.”

Viktor couldn’t help but let out an exasperated laugh. “I fail to see your logic. His phone was stolen, remember?”

Chris paused, then frowned. “Yes, I forgot about that… Did you ever search into that case?”

Viktor hummed. “I got one of the other officers to look into it.”

“You did? Which one?”

Viktor’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Uh… Emil someone. He was very enthusiastic about looking into it.”

“Emil?” Chris pursed his lips in thought. “Emil Nekola?”

“Maybe.”

“What did he say?”

Viktor sighed. “Nothing. They can’t find any footage and nobody seems to match that description in the near vicinity. I’ll have to tell Katsuki tomorrow that it doesn’t look like he’s getting his things back anytime soon.”

“Tomorrow?”

Viktor winced. He’d forgotten to tell Chris about the meeting with Katsuki.

“Uh, nothing,” Viktor said quickly, turning away to pick up the case file to flip through it again.

But it was too late.

“Viktor,” Chris purred, rolling so that he was face to face with him. “Are you going on a date with Katsuki?”

“No!” Viktor responded, turning away. “I gave him my phone since he didn’t have one and he’s buying me coffee in return.”

Chris hummed. “I see…”

Viktor looked over his shoulder at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Chris said with a sly grin, sliding off of the desk and standing.

“Chris,” Viktor said, standing up and narrowing his eyes. “What?”

Chris shrugged nonchalantly in response. “Nothing, I promise. Make sure to invite him out again if he’s nice.”

Viktor rolled his eyes and settled back down to read the file again, flipping idly through the pages. Chris watched him for a few seconds, before he reached over and took it from Viktor.

“You’ve gone through this thing a hundred times now.”

“There might be something there,” Viktor told him. “Anything has the possibility to be evidence.”

Chris just sighed and placed the file down again. It was open to the article to when the newspapers first heard of the card with Eros’ signature on, dated three years ago. They had absolutely loved the idea of Eros teasing the police and didn’t fail to comment on that.

“All you focus on is the case! Let loose for a bit and enjoy tomorrow with Katsuki.” A wide grin spread across Chris’ face. “Who knows? Maybe Katsuki will be the one.”

Viktor chuckled. “I don’t know. He was cute, I suppose, but he seemed anxious and uncertain.”

Chris nodded in response. “Yes… Well, you won’t know until tomorrow. Which is why you need to leave.”

The other looked up at him, startled. “Excuse me?”

“Get up! Go!” Viktor didn’t have time to respond before Chris was pulling him up and pushing him out the door. “You have a date tomorrow! Get ready for it!”

“But-!” Viktor tried to protest, but the sound of the office door locking was enough to stop him.

Sometimes, Chris could be incredibly frustrating.

Viktor sighed and ran a hand through his hair before he turned and made his way down the corridor. Chris was probably right, he would need some rest before seeing Katsuki again. He wanted to make himself look a little more presentable than that first meeting.

Needless to say, he was more than a little nervous.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take Viktor long to find the coffee shop that Katsuki had mentioned. He’d sent him a few messages to ask where they were meant to be meeting and at what time, all of which Katsuki answered politely. However, now that he’d found his seat inside the coffee shop - at a table for two that overlooked the sidewalk outside - the nerves were beginning to creep up on him.

It was a little strange, after all, that a police detective and a victim were meeting together like this. Katsuki didn’t seem to particularly mind, however. In fact, he seemed quite enthusiastic about it in his own way.

“Detective Nikiforov?”

The sudden voice made Viktor look up to where Yuuri Katsuki was standing on the opposite side of the table. His hair was messy from the wind outside and his cheeks were flushed like he’d been running, but he looked just as Viktor remembered him from a few days before.

“Viktor,” he corrected. “I’m off duty.”

“Viktor,” Katsuki amended, taking a seat too and letting out a relieved sigh. “I thought I wouldn’t make it here in time.”

“You didn’t have to run,” Viktor said with a laugh. “I could have waited. Let me get you something to drink.”

Katsuki shook his head. “I’m the one who’s buying you a drink, remember?”

With that he stood again, shrugging off his coat and looking at Viktor with one eyebrow raised. “What would you like?”

“I’ll have black coffee, please.”

Katsuki nodded and went over to the counter, returning a few minutes later with a black coffee for Viktor and something for himself that smelled distinctly of spices.

“Thank you,” said Viktor, wrapping his fingers around the cup.

“I should be thanking you,” was the reply as Katsuki sat down.

Guilt twisted in Viktor’s gut and he looked down into the mug instead. “Ah, I don’t think you should be. It doesn’t look like we’ll be finding any of your belongings.”

Katsuki was quiet, and when Viktor looked up he was staring into his cup solemnly. Then, he nodded.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

Viktor swallowed thickly, before he let out a sigh. “You can keep the phone, if that helps.”

Katsuki looked up, startled. “No- you don’t have to do that! You’ve been kind enough to look into my case already.”

Viktor shook his head. “No, it’s perfectly fine. Keep it.”

The other looked conflicted, but nodded grimly. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

The two sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, sipping at their respective drinks and watching people pass outside the window. It was like they were in their own bubble, away from the rest of the world inside a small coffee shop, and Viktor found himself enjoying it immensely. Though soon, his curiosity got the better of him and he looked round at Katsuki. Watching how his eyes followed the various passersby with a smile on his lips, the afternoon light bathing him in warmth. It seemed to make his eyes sparkle, his hair soft. He just seemed to radiate gentleness and warmth.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what do you do for work?”

Katsuki looked round at the question, looking surprised.

“I work as an ice skating instructor at the local ice rink,” he told him, taking another sip of his drink. “I teach children mainly, with the occasional adult.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a peaceful job.”

“It is,” Katsuki agreed with a smile. “In my youth I was a rising figure skater and represented Japan in the Junior Grand Prix and then Worlds, but I had to stop.”

“Why’s that?”

Katsuki let out a languid sigh, taking another sip of his drink. “My family fell into financial difficulties and I wanted to help them out. I was studying in Detroit at the time with my friend, and so I had to find a way to make money quickly.”

He paused, looking up at the decorations in the coffee shop that littered the walls. “It broke my heart to give it up, but I didn’t have a choice. This was a better alternative to stopping completely, anyway.”

Viktor’s fondness of Katsuki had grown significantly as he listened, and he felt a smile curling his lips. This man was kind, very much so, and it made warmth spread throughout Viktor’s chest.

“That’s a very admirable thing to do,” Viktor commented, taking another long sip of his coffee. Suddenly, his phone buzzed, and he apologised to Katsuki before taking it out of his pocket;

 

**Chris Giacometti** [14:37]  

Letting Chulanont out

 

 

Viktor let out a sigh, before quickly replying to him. Letting their only suspect go was more heart wrenching than Viktor imagined, but what else could they do? He was innocent by all accounts.

He put his phone away, meeting Katsuki’s curious gaze. Viktor grimaced in response.

“We had a suspect. He’s a journalist - the first one to use the names of Eros’ gang. I thought that that could mean he was part of it, but he told us that he’d named them because there are six of them, and since the leader’s name is Eros he named them after the six types of love. We held him overnight, but Chris just text me to say he’s letting him out.”

“Chris?”

“Detective Giacometti.”

“Ah,” was all Katsuki said, giving Viktor an apologetic smile. “That must be frustrating…”

“Very,” Viktor agreed, finishing off his coffee. “I’d spent a good part of Friday night trying to find out about him, not to mention it caused a lot of trouble holding him.”

Katsuki let out a sigh and finished his drink too, before putting it down and turning to Viktor. “I’m sure you’ll get another lead soon. You and Chris work very hard.”

“Thank you,” Viktor replied. “I was just so sure…”

“May I see the article?” Katsuki asked, interest in his voice. “I’ve always wondered where the names came from.”

“Of course.”

Viktor reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a few taps in the search bar, he leaned over the table to show it to Katsuki.

“Here,” Viktor said, thumb swiping up to show him. “He was the first…”

“The first?” Katsuki asked after a few seconds of silence, before looking up.

Viktor’s eyes were almost comically wide, his face pale and sickly looking.

“Viktor?” He asked worriedly. “Are you ok?”

“The date,” Viktor said hoarsely. “The date.”

“What about it?” Katsuki asked, looking at it in confusion. There wasn’t anything particularly special about it.

Before he knew it, Viktor had stood up and was fumbling with the call button on his phone, moving quickly to the door and throwing it open.

“Viktor?!” Katsuki called after him, grabbing his own jacket and running out after him. “What’s wrong?”

“Damnit, he’s not answering!”

Viktor lowered his phone, getting out his car keys and, upon reaching the car, getting into it quickly. After a moment’s hesitation Katsuki got in too, utterly bemused.

“Viktor, please,” he asked anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“The date,” Viktor said, biting hard on his lower lip as he started the car and pulled away from the kerb. “Earlier I was looking at an article about when evidence was first released along with the names.”

He glanced at Katsuki. “The article here is dated the day before Eros’ name was released, but he used the names of the criminals.”

Katsuki frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Viktor said, swerving the car around a corner. “That Chulanont knew the names of the criminals before it was released to the public.”

He pressed down harder on the accelerator, hands tightening on the wheel of the car. “It also means that I was right. Chulanont is one of them. And Chris has just let him go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... And we end on a cliff hanger. Will Viktor reach Phichit in time? Stay tuned to find out!
> 
> On a more serious note, again thank you to everyone who commented/left kudos etc. and we hope that you enjoyed it! It's a lot of fun writing this actually. It's also interesting to see the guessing of Pragma's identity... but, unfortunately, you'll just have to wait and see!
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> Charlie


	4. Philautia

They missed him by a minute.

By the time Viktor had gotten the information out of the startled receptionist Chulanont was long gone, yet not a single passerby saw him go. He had disappeared.

Though Chris had promised that he’d talk to Celestino about his whereabouts, Viktor already knew that Chulanont wouldn’t be reappearing any time soon. This fear was only reinforced when the media caught wind of what had happened, hounding them like wolves. The paparazzi were relentless bordering on hostile, and any scrap of information soon spread like a wildfire. Chulanont, working within the media, would have a direct line to it. He would be keeping far out of the way.

Yakov hadn’t been impressed by their recklessness and had chided Viktor and Chris for it, but had let it go. Maybe it was out of pity. Viktor was humiliated and ashamed, but somehow that silent judgement was worse than the crowds outside. He’d come so far, only to be brought to a grinding halt by this blow.

As he suspected, within the week Chulanont had completely vanished. He hadn’t showed up for work, all of his social media accounts were silent, he wasn’t on any security footage and nobody had seen him since the day he had been brought into temporary custody. It really was like both Eros and his gang were phantoms: slipping through the detective's fingers, always just out of reach. Even when they finally managed to get a warrant to search his house, they found no important documents or any sort of information. It was as if Chulanont had been expecting to get caught all along.

Though Viktor had only been in work for a week or so, the depressive phase that followed his humiliation had Yakov forcing him to take a few days off of work to recover. Chris had understood completely, never blaming him for the mistake; indeed, Viktor felt as though he was the only one with whom he could share his devastation. After all, they were in this together. Chris had let Chulanont go - on his orders, Viktor reminded himself with a nauseous turn of his stomach - but it was also Chris who had realised there was something not quite right about him. Chris had seen through the disguise when Viktor hadn’t, and it frustrated Viktor even more that he’d let himself be so easily tricked.

The days off of work only seemed to make his mood worse. Rather than taking the time, as Chris suggested, to rest, he spent it mulling over the things that had gone wrong. He couldn’t keep his mind away from the topic; it was a never-ending spiral of ‘what-if’s and doubts. When he’d joined the force he knew he would face challenges and disappointment, but this was worse than he had ever imagined.

He realised then just how immense the task ahead of them was.

The only days he found normalcy in that whirlwind of emotion were with Yuuri Katsuki. With his few days off, Yuuri had offered to take him out - a short trip to their little coffee shop, just to take his mind off things - which Viktor instantly accepted. It had quickly become a sort of routine between them; as soon as Yuuri got off work for the day or had his lunch break, Viktor would pick him up from the rink and the two would enjoy coffee together. Or rather coffee for Viktor, he’d learned that Yuuri preferred either green tea or smoothies.

He enjoyed Yuuri’s company, and found himself more drawn to the kind and gentle man with each quiet afternoon. He found that he could forget his disappointment and resentment towards Eros, could forget the entire case whilst he talked with Yuuri. Thankfully, Yuuri also avoided the subject, supposedly so that it gave Viktor the normalcy that he craved. It really was as if Yuuri took all of the hurt away and replaced it with warmth, and the Russian found himself craving that peace more and more as the days wore on.

It was during one of those afternoons, relaxing in content silence together as they sipped their drinks and watched people pass by the window, that Viktor turned to Yuuri for advice. Though he didn’t yet know Yuuri as well as he had come to know Chris, Chris didn’t have the same sense of logic. It was strange, but their contrasting mindsets had a restorative effect on Viktor. It was exactly what he needed after recent events.

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice was soft, muffled by the cup in his hands, but his gaze was locked on the man seated opposite him. “What do you think I should do?”

Yuuri turned to tilt his head a little in curiosity, looking mellow and relaxed in the early evening light. “What do you mean?”

Viktor pushed a palm through his hair in a nervous gesture, exhaling slowly. “When I go back to work, the whole of the force will know what happened. It’s humiliating that I let one of Eros’ gang go, and I know they won’t let it go. The only evidence I had is useless now.”

Yuuri seemed to get what he meant and pursed his lips, eyebrows furrowing in thought as he pushed up his glasses with his forefinger. He considered his words for a few minutes before he spoke slowly.

“Everyone makes mistakes. It’s up to you what you do from here, but you shouldn’t give up hope because one got away. You’re the first detective to have found out the name of one of Eros’ gang after all, and that’s more than anyone else has done.”

Yuuri had a point. He was the first detective to get this far, as well as the first to show that much dedication to finding Eros (as Chris had told him the day after the incident, likely as an expression of comfort though his voice was entirely sincere). He was the only one passionate and willing enough to catch each and every one of the gang.

“But what should I do? I don’t have anything else to go on with.”

Yuuri took a sip of his drink. “Viktor… You found evidence before. I’m sure you can do it again.”

Viktor nibbled on his lower lip. He was right, of course. But that had really been pure chance. It was only because he was looking at the card that he had realised…

But maybe it wasn’t evidence he was looking for. They had to slip up somewhere- Chulanont was proof of that. Maybe he just had to wait, stay on guard for something that would be unnoticeable by anyone who wasn’t paying close attention. He was notorious for letting his gut instinct rule him, but perhaps this time...

When Viktor looked back up, Yuuri smiled. He could see the newfound determination in his eyes, the burning desire to catch Eros and the rest of his cohorts.

“Have you decided?” Yuuri asked, sounding as if he knew the answer already.

Viktor nodded and finished his coffee quickly. “Yes.”

Yuuri stood. “And?”

Viktor stood too, grabbing his jacket and helping Katsuki slide into his own. “I’m going to go back to work. You’re right - I can find evidence again. I think I’m just looking in the wrong places.”

Yuuri paused and stared up at him. The height difference between them wasn’t too large, but it was enough that Yuuri had to tilt his head slightly to look up at Viktor. A smile curled his lips, one that had been appearing more and more often these past few days, and he moved towards the door.

“I see. I hope you find something.”

“So do I,” Viktor said solemnly, opening the door for Yuuri before following him out. “So do I.”

 

* * *

 

 

Chris was ecstatic when Viktor announced that he was coming back to work.

Though he didn’t voice it, Viktor was sure Chris had been concerned that he had been driven away by the failure; that he’d be back to working on the case by himself. However, Yuuri’s encouragement had rejuvenated him completely. He returned to work with a passion he hadn’t felt in years, not since discovering the story of Eros in his first year of police training.

Even Chris couldn’t help but smile as he arrived in the morning to find Viktor already inside, greeting him with two mugs of coffee and a teasing prod at his social life (or apparent lack thereof).

He needed to think outside the box, ‘abstractedly’ as Chris had put it. Eros didn’t leave evidence and Eros didn’t make mistakes; but the others just might. He’d just have to work his way up, catching the others out and slowly making his way to the person hiding behind the façade of Eros. He’d have to be patient.

By now, Viktor was convinced that Chulanont wasn’t Eros. Though he did fit the description he had been caught too easily, and with a mistake that was almost ridiculous in hindsight.

He wondered, then, which of them that made him. Chris’ words weeks to him ago rang through his ears, that perhaps the names reflected their personality; going by that logic Chulanont could be Agape with how innocent he had seemed, but then again it was just as likely that the meanings of the names were another ruse. Pragma, Ludus, Philautia, Philia. Agape. Eros. He decided not to dwell on that point, there was no way to know for certain.

Since he had returned he’d gone over the thin file even more critically than before. He’d caught Chulanont out through such a small mistake, it could be the same for the others.

As he went over it for what seemed like the thousandth time, Chris was busying himself by browsing the wall-mounted television in the corner. He sat atop Viktor’s desk, which by now he seemed to have claimed as his personal chair, flicking idly through the channels whilst Viktor studied the sheets rigorously.

“There’s no good television on this time of day…” he mused absently, gliding over the nature documentaries and historical accounts, pausing when he got to the news.

“Sounds like Leroy has got up another new brand.”

Viktor glanced up at the television distractedly, barely taking in the chirpy voice and the reporter who answered with just as much enthusiasm. He’d heard of Jean-Jacques Leroy before - it was hard not to, he was quite prestigious in the city - and the release of new merchandise was nothing new.

However, something made him pause.

He looked back up again at a joking comment Leroy made, something about loving himself more than the company, and a tightness rose in his chest. Though he’d seen Leroy plenty before on the television, something in his gut told him to look closer at him.

And so he did.

Leroy was an objectively handsome man, he had to admit, full of self-confidence and a hard determination. A businessman by all accounts. His signature move, hands curled into twin ‘J’ shapes coupled with the confident declaration of “It’s JJ style!”, was something that had been plastered across billboards and television screens for a few years now, something he had seen time and time again and was as familiar to him as the folder he was pouring over.

It was no secret that the celebrity loved himself - he was a self proclaimed narcissist after all - and had a tramp stamp of his own name, along with a company that was growing more famous and making more money with each passing year. But something, Viktor suddenly realised, was off about JJ. Something Chris had said tugged at the back of his mind, and he removed that worn scrap of paper from the back of the folder with slowly dawning shock.

“Philautia. Self love.”

“Hm?” Chris looked over his shoulder, expression becoming cautious as he looked at Viktor. “What’s wrong?”

“Philautia,” Viktor repeated, looking up at the screen, just as Leroy made his signature move. “Leroy is Philautia.”

Chris stared at him, wonder and confusion warring on his face. “How do you know that?”

“I just know.” Viktor turned towards his computer, tapping away at the search engine and bringing up a page about Leroy.

Chris leaned back on the table to follow along, not looking convinced - but Viktor wasn’t dissuaded. Though there was absolutely no evidence against Leroy, something in his gut told him that he had to delve deeper. He decided to follow it. It had rarely failed him before.

Within a few paragraphs, he was rewarded with a hit.

“Look at this,” Viktor said, pressing a finger to the screen. The page talked about Leroy’s early life and how he had been left with a failing business, but after an idea had been spawned a considerable amount of money had been invested to the company in order to make the new product, which in turn was a hit.

Chris frowned. “There’s nothing special about it.”

“No,” Viktor dragged the cursor across the screen, highlighting a sentence. ““The company gained momentum around three years ago”.”

“Three years ago,” Chris repeated, before gasping. “The same time Eros-?”

Excitement flared up in Viktor again, sudden confidence settling over his mind - the same surety which he had felt when he had first discovered Chulanont. This was no coincidence.

Chris looked back up at the television screen. Leroy gave the cameras one final beaming wave before it switched back to the news anchor, and he switched the television off. He crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms, temple furrowed in thought.

“Yakov’s not going to be happy about this.”

Viktor let out a laugh. “Yakov’s never happy about anything.” 

Chris huffed out a laugh, then raised an eyebrow. “Are we going to interview him?”

There was a moment of silence as Viktor closed the folder, staring at the plain surface in silence. He lifted his gaze to meet Chris’ eyes, unwavering.

“We have to be very careful. If we are wrong, it could destroy Leroy’s career.”

“But we can’t know without more evidence,” Chris mused, tapping a finger to his chin. “And I doubt we’re going to get that lucky.”

“I know.” Viktor turned towards his computer screen, humming in thought. “Maybe if we schedule an interview with him but don’t tell him that he’s a suspect, we can do some more research.”

His gaze returned to Chris. “But something is telling me that we’re not wrong. The first heist was three years ago, and who’s to say that the money from that wasn’t used to boost the company? Aside from that, Leroy is suspiciously young for his success, and perfectly fits the description of Philautia.”

Chris paused, before nodding in agreement. “Ok. I’ll talk to Georgi; we’ll need to be quiet about this, and he has an uncanny knack for subtlety.”

Viktor nodded, lacing his fingers together and letting out a long breath. They could not afford another mistake.

“We have to be very careful about this. If he is one of them, he’ll run at the first hint of danger.”

Viktor’s eyes drifted towards the door, gaze hollowed and distant. “And if he really is Philautia, we can’t let him get away.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So, detectives! Can I get you a drink?”

Scheduling an interview with Leroy had proved to be quite the challenge, as Georgi put it. He was a busy man after all, and fitting in time for some seemingly pointless - and largely profitless - questions from detectives had not been a priority.

But here they were, a few days later, sitting in the penthouse of Leroy’s company building.

The man himself was completely at ease, even with the unfamiliar presence of the police. He sat in a chair at one end of a table, facing both Chris and Viktor as he poured himself a glass of scotch and gave an easy smile at their refusal. At nineteen years old, Jean-Jacques Leroy was living the life most people only dreamed of. Successful, with a huge business and cash to burn.

It was incredibly impressive, even Viktor had to admit, and it made him conflicted. Though all the signs pointed to Leroy being Philautia, it still brought them back to the question of why. He had plenty of money already, not to mention the fact that he was well-known, especially in the city where his business thrived. Surely it was an unnecessary risk to be part of Eros’ gang.

But at the same time, thought  Viktor, he might not be doing it of his own accord. No one knew the circumstances as to why the six criminals were together and he doubted they ever would unless told directly by Eros, so maybe he was in some sort of debt? Money, perhaps, or something a little harder to repay.

There were so many questions, but none could be answered.

“Mr. Leroy,” Chris said in the same tone that he always used for an interview- dead and devoid of emotion. “Thank you for meeting with us today, it’s greatly appreciated. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

“Is that so?” Leroy seemed unfazed, taking a long sip of his drink. “Then I, JJ, will gladly answer. How can I help?”

Viktor stayed silent as Chris continued to talk. He was still so inexperienced, but was learning more each time he saw Chris in action. It was an interesting sight to see at least, as Chris knew all the techniques and tricks to get people to talk without meaning to - a particularly admirable skill.

“Do you know anything about Eros?”

Leroy swirled his drink around in the glass, before taking another sip. “Eros? The criminal?” He hummed at Chris’ nod. “Not much. I know he’s burgled shops, but that’s it.”

He paused, looking up at both Chris and Viktor skeptically. “Don’t tell me you suspect me?”

He caught on quickly. Viktor restrained himself from sucking in a breath.

“We suspect everyone,” Chris replied truthfully, deflecting the question with ease. “Though as Eros and his gang have made a lot of money, we were wondering if any huge and famous businesses would have heard of him, or would know anything.”

Leroy sat up straighter, pride in his tone. “I see. I can do some digging, but that’s all I can offer.”

Chris nodded, eagerly latching onto the idea. “That would be great. Any small detail would help in our case immensely.”

Leroy laughed. “It’s no problem. A king always helps out his subjects, so what makes me any different?”

He held out his glass and Viktor was impressed by how fast it was refilled; a butler stood slightly behind Leroy in wait of his commands. It only made Viktor more conscious of the very obvious gap between them: though Viktor wasn’t poor by any means, neither was he an affluent man, and he certainly wasn’t as rich as JJ. Leroy practically breathed money and wealth, and it made him very attractive to other wealthy businessman who were willing to partner with Leroy’s company.

“I heard that you lost a suspect,” Leroy continued, placing his glass down.

Viktor’s fist tightened involuntarily, a compressing feeling in his chest. Chris nudged him gently with his foot, no doubt as some sort of acknowledgement or comfort, and nodded.

“We did. However, we know his name and if he makes the slightest of moves then we can find him.”

Leroy shrugged. “He can’t disappear forever. You two are doing a great job.”

“Thank you,” they replied simultaneously.

There was an abrupt knock on the door, to which Leroy looked up immediately as a young man came in. He nodded briefly to Chris and Viktor, before murmuring something in his superior’s ear. Leroy’s expression hardened and he nodded, before standing.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both, but there is something I must deal with.”

“Thank you for your time.” They exchanged handshakes before Chris and Viktor were ushered out of the room, down in an elevator and then out the front entrance of the building.

It was only when they were both in the car that Chris turned to him. “Thoughts?”

“I’m not sure.” Viktor ran a hand through his hair. “The interview didn’t tell us a lot, but I’m still skeptical. He’s acting innocent, like Chulanont.”

Chris nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to keep a close eye on him. For now he’s just a suspect.”

“I agree.” Viktor frowned. “Something still tells me that Leroy isn’t innocent, though.”

Chris glanced at Viktor. “‘Don’t let your previous failures cloud your judgement.’ That’s something Yakov told me a while ago and I’ve lived by that since. There’s barely anything against Leroy, so let’s move on for now and keep him as a suspect.”

Viktor let out a long exhale and switched on the engine. “Yes, you’re right. I’m just worried we’ll let another one of Eros’ gang slip through our fingers.”

“I know,” Chris replied, tone softening. “But for now… Let’s move on.”

 

* * *

 

 

“You want us to do _what?”_

Agape was used to being given strange jobs, but this one was light years away from the rest. Exchanging close to fifty thousand in cash in a car park in the middle of the night? What sort of game was Eros playing?

Eros looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. “Philautia is facing some… difficulties, and can’t get to the meeting place. This is the compromise.”

“Philautia’s a chickenshit- he hates the meeting place and will do anything to get out of it!”

Eros fixed Agape with a cool stare, one that he only reserved for when he was beginning to get irritated. Agape saw the danger immediately and, with a glare, closed his mouth. He hated having to be submissive to Eros like this, but it was his own fault that he was in this mess in the first place. He still had a debt he had to pay.

“Agape.” Eros leaned back to look at the younger fully. “I trust you and Philia the most, you know that. Now that Philia is hiding, it’s up to you.”

Eros paused, considering his next words. “I don’t fully trust all of our team. I feel like there’s something else going on, especially after what Philia has told me, so we have to be careful.”

Agape’s expression had softened into a childish pout, but he nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll do it. You’d better be extra fucking nice to me for this!”

With that, he snatched the piece of paper that Eros held out for him and turned on his heel, however, Eros’ voice stopped him.

“Don’t take Ludus.”

Agape glared over his shoulder at Eros. “And why’s that?”

Eros stared back calmly, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I told you my suspicions. Just make it so that it’s you and Philautia.”

Agape let out a dry laugh, but didn’t say anything more. Instead, he turned around again and went back through the door, through the long corridor and then out into the night.

The cold air hit his skin and made him shudder slightly, but a fiery anger in his chest quelled the chilliness immediately. Why was it down to him if Philautia wasn’t brave enough to help? Agape had hated him from the start, and this newest errand was only fuelling his disgust.

“What are we doing?”

Slightly ahead of him, half concealed by the shadows, was Ludus. The taut anger in his shoulders relaxed somewhat at the sight, and he gave a halfhearted shrug as he joined him in the dark. 

“I’m supposed to get some money off Philautia at this address.” He waved the piece of paper. “And Eros told me you couldn’t come.”

Something flashed across Ludus’ expression and he faltered, breath catching audibly in his throat. He was one to always listen to Eros very closely and usually didn’t question him, but Eros was well aware of how much Agape meant to him. When was the last time they had been separated for a job?

His hands curled into fists, but the flash of Agape’s teeth stopped him. “But Eros can fuck off. I’m not facing Philautia on my own - I’ll end up shooting him right in that smarmy smirk of his.”

Ludus stared at him, mystified, before a grin of his own tugged at his lips and he met Agape’s hand with a rough high five.

“Then I’ll gladly join you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Though he had only been working for a few weeks, Viktor had soon found that quite a lot of the other police officers had begun to admire him. Chris had been far from subtle when he had casually mentioned it, and at first it had confused Viktor. He’d been there for only a few weeks and had already made one big mistake in that time. What was there to admire?

But, as he was quickly informed, there was plenty. His determination had captured some of the junior and senior officers’ attention, quickly infecting them with the same energy. His denial to back down was noted, as well as him being the first detective to actually get not one but now two suspects for the Eros case. According to Chris, no one else had thought to move as boldly as he did: everyone had been far too focused on following protocol instead of speculation. Apparently, Viktor had amassed his own little fan base within the force itself.

Chris had also not so subtly mentioned that quite a few of these found him attractive. That was the one thing Viktor could believe; although, the idea was greeted not with pleasure but a dull sort of disappointment. He’d been commended his whole life for his looks and it often turned heads, even if it wasn’t wanted, and there was no surprise that it was happening now. As he always had, he ignored it.

However, as he stood in the main offices, looking over Nekola’s shoulder as he sorted through some documents on the computer, he was acutely aware of the fact that there were eyes on him. Admittedly it did make him uncomfortable, but he had to maintain his professionalism and focus on the task ahead.

“I’ve looked through everything,” Nekola said slowly, eyebrows furrowed. “But nothing’s come up. The cards haven’t been used and there’s no security footage anywhere.”

He glanced up at Viktor. “Are you sure that he was robbed?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Viktor replied, mildly irritated. “He was distraught over it. There must be something.”

Nekola shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there’s not. The least he can do is get compensation. Does he have insurance?”

“I’ll ask.” Viktor glared at the computer screen with a sigh. Seeing Yuuri again the previous afternoon, he was desperate now to ease the worry on the young man’s face, but to no avail. There was just nothing, and he’d made Nekola look over the documents and footage several times.

Nekola nodded and shuffled the papers together again, clicking off of the file on his computer screen. “I really am sorry, Nikiforov.”

Viktor shook his head. “You’ve been a great help. Thank you for looking.”

“It’s no problem.”

Viktor let out another sigh as he turned, making his way back through the offices adjacent to his own. Most of the other detectives inside were too busy working on their own cases - petty theft and robberies, with the occasional more serious crimes - to spare him much attention, however he was still aware of the feeling that he was being watched.

He turned his head and looked around, making eye contact with a woman sitting at her desk with her chin in the palm of her hand, eyes bright and blue with curiosity. She realised that she’d been caught and let out a laugh, sitting back and standing up to come over to him.

“Mila,” she introduced herself, to which Viktor took her hand politely. “I’m sorry I was staring, but you’re very admirable.”

Viktor blinked. “It’s fine.”

Mila shrugged. “I too came into the force hoping that I would be the one to take down Eros, but it really was too hard. But watching you has made me regret giving it up. I’m both jealous and impressed!”

Viktor chuckled, turning to face her fully. “I’m just a very dedicated person. I’ve never been good at giving up.”

The other nodded solemnly. “I can see that. How did you do it? I’ve spent days wondering.”

Viktor hummed, tapping a forefinger against his lips as he thought. “Really, it was just more abstract thinking. Rather than focusing on the evidence, I looked at articles and elsewhere. I’m still not sure myself how I found Chulanont.”

“I don’t think any of us would have guessed he was one of them,” Mila said, crossing her arms. “I certainly wouldn’t have. I would have assumed that the date was a typo.”

Viktor shook his head. “Assuming is the worst thing. You have to suspect the worst, and then find facts and evidence to back it up.”

Mila hummed thoughtfully, nodding her head. “I get it. I’ll be sure to remember that when I work on my cases in the future. I’m looking into the murder of a woman right now, and I just can’t-”

“Viktor!”

The sudden call of Viktor’s name made them both start and turn towards the office door, where Chris was stood. His eyes were wide and his breathing was ragged like he had been running. The abrupt shout had made all eyes in the office turn towards them in everything from curiosity to irritation but Viktor was in no mind to care about that.

“We’ll resume this conversation later,” Viktor told Mila, before he jogged over to Chris and followed him out of the main office and into their own. Chris shut the door and turned towards the Russian, his expression bewildered.

“You aren’t going to believe this.”

“What?” Viktor glanced toward the door, then back to him. “Has something happened?”

Chris seemed unable to speak for a moment, shaking his head. “I just got an anonymous call telling me that there would be an exchange between three members of Eros’ gang in a parking lot downtown.”

Viktor could fall his jaw going slack and his eyes widen. “What?!”

“That’s not all,” Chris said, swallowing thickly. “They also said that Philautia was going to be one of them, and that the exchange would be happening tonight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we have suspect number 2!  
> I'm so glad it's finally getting to the interesting parts, because the first (but important) few chapters were so boring to write, but from now on it starts to get pretty exciting! Thank you to everyone who left a nice comment- it honestly makes me so happy! Again, all theories are welcomed, as they actually shape the plot of the story depending on what you guys say (not significantly, but some parts). Not to mention it's interesting to see what people think, and it also puts our writing skills to the test (which will be evident later).  
> Anyway, thank you all again, your support is greatly appreciated!
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> Charlie


	5. Capture

The night air was damp, sending chills up Viktor’s spine. Though he was used to the cold, the mixture of anxiety and anticipation churning in his stomach made him shudder.

After the anonymous phone call had been made, Yakov, albeit skeptically, authorised Chris and Viktor to go to the address with a gun and a small army of police officers in the means of capturing Philautia and the two others. He had taken extra precaution, of course: firstly, who knew what cornered members of a gang would be capable of, and secondly, he didn’t want to have to face mockery from the media for letting another criminal slip through their fingers. Of course, this was all dependent on whether or not the phone call was genuine.

Viktor looked at his watch. It was fast approaching three in the morning, and since the phone call hadn’t specified exactly what time the meeting would be taking place, he’d been crouched behind a car for hours. He was tired and cold, and all he wanted was to go back home, but the looming possibilities and the excitement of capturing another of the Eros’ gang kept him rooted to his spot. He was determined to catch them, every last one. He wouldn’t rest until he had.

It was then that he heard a noise. The purr of a motorbike, distant but getting louder by the second. The breath caught in the back of his throat. This was it.

He stiffened when the motorbike entered the car park, doing a lap around the tarmac before gently sliding to a stop in the very centre. Viktor peered over the bonnet of the car, keeping his head low, and watching as two people got off.

They were dressed entirely in black with reflective bikers helmets - their faces invisible behind the protective screen. The slightly taller one went to take the helmet off, but the others hand on his arm stopped him and shook his head. The other obeyed immediately and leaned back against the bike, folding his arms, whilst the other stood straight and still.

For a brief moment, Viktor wondered if he’d spotted the danger, but the smaller figure made no signs of moving. He seemed fixed on the entrance to the car park, seemingly waiting for the other to arrive. Viktor wondered if either of the two were Eros. The taller one did seem to do what the smaller said. However, he quickly cast the thought aside. Eros was cautious and would undoubtedly get the others to do things for him.

“Viktor.” The voice from his earpiece made him start and duck down, pressing a finger to his ear.

“The security cameras have gone down,” Chris continued. “Are they there?”

“Yes,” Viktor whispered, glancing up and locking eyes with the officer in charge crouched behind a car nearby. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, to which Viktor shook his head. It was still too early - they had to wait. “There are two. They don’t seem to have realised we’re here.”

Chris hummed in response. He was back in the police van along with Emil, checking the perimeter with the cameras. However, now that those were gone, Viktor felt blind. Chris couldn’t tell him if someone was coming or if something had happened, and it made fear curl in his chest.

But he had to keep calm. Losing his head now wouldn’t do any of them good.

The sound of tyres caught his attention, and he peered around the side of the car. A car had just entered the car park, a rather expensive one, and slowly made its way over to the two standing by the motorcycle.

The other two didn’t move a muscle as the car pulled to a stop and, after a few seconds delay, the door opened and somebody got out of the drivers seat. He was wearing a dark mask over his face and black clothing too, making it impossible to see who it was.

Viktor looked up at the commanding officer again, meeting his intent gaze. He shook his head. Not yet.

There was a few beats of silence, before the newly arrived person grinned.

“I see you took him along after all. I knew you weren’t brave enough to come here on your own.”

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat. That voice was awfully familiar.

There was another pause, the two on the motorcycle staying silent, before the other - Leroy, it had to be - chuckled.

“Alright, alright, here.” With that, he turned around and reached inside a car, bringing back out a thick silver briefcase. He then turned back to the other two and held it out. “All the money’s in there. Be sure to tell Eros I said hey.”

Any doubts Viktor had had in his mind vanished. It really was them, and the mention of Eros confirmed it. Three of Eros’ gang stood in front of him - the phantoms he’d pursued for weeks. He was both scared and very excited.

He watched as the smaller one quite literally snatched the briefcase from him, turning and placing it on the motorcycle’s seat and opening it. From Viktor’s position, he could see the stacks of cash quite clearly inside it; there must have been at least ten thousand, if not more.

Seeming satisfied, the smaller one closed the case with a click and gestured to the taller one, who turned and swung one leg over the motorbike. The other pouted, crossing his arms.

“I don’t get a thank you?”

The smaller one shot him the middle finger, making it perfectly clear that no, he wouldn’t be. It was then that Viktor turned to the commanding officer, and, with a nod of his head, tightened his hold on the gun.

The commanding officer took a deep breath and stood.

“Freeze!”

Less than a second later, the other officers stationed round the car park shot up too, Viktor included, pointing their guns at the three startled figures. Viktor could see the way the new arrival’s eyes widened in fear, the other two freezing up completely.

“We have you surrounded!” The officer bellowed, hands and eyes steady. “Step away from the vehicles and put your hands in the air!”

The three in the middle complied, slowly raising their hands, before there was a sudden burst of movement. The masked one reached into his pocket and drew out a gun, pointing it at the commanding officer and firing. It missed, flying wide, but the man turned to the others with a yell before the echo of the gunshot died away. “Get out of here!”

The smaller one paused for a second, as if stunned, before he swung his leg over the bike. Gripping the case tightly and holding onto the other’s waist as the bike roared to life.

Before any of them had time to react, they were gone.

“No!” Viktor yelped fruitlessly, staring after the exhaust smoke in horror, before a second gunshot made him duck down immediately. It seemed as though the one with the gun was intent on keeping the officers distracted whilst the other two got away. Noble.

“Chris!” Viktor hissed. “We need backup!”

“I know,” Chris replied, the sound of furious typing heard through the intercom. “The cameras have turned back on! There’s a gap behind the car where he isn’t looking, and if you get there you can catch him!”

“Got it.”

Viktor let out a deep breath and tried to calm the frantic beating of his heart. Then he inhaled sharply and took to his feet. He kept his head low as he darted past the cars and around the back of the man, swiftly avoiding the other officers and perching himself behind a car behind the one that the shooter had arrived in.

He made sure the safety was off before ducking behind the shooter’s car, and then edged around it. Thankfully the shooter seemed to be too preoccupied with waving his gun at the other officers to notice him. This was his one chance. He took another deep breath before swiftly getting to his feet, rounding the side of the car, and pressing the gun to the back of the shooters head.

“Drop it!”

The shooter froze, finger hovering dangerously over the trigger, then slumped with an audible sigh. He dropped the gun and held his hands up, not protesting when the other officers swarmed him and forced him to his knees and into a pair of handcuffs. When he was safely detained, Viktor put the safety back on and put the gun back in its holder, before he stepped closer to the shooter.

With only slight hesitation, he grabbed the side of the mask and lifted it off over his head. His breath caught audibly in his throat.

Below him, Jean-Jacques Leroy chuckled, giving him a weak smile.

“I screwed up, huh?”

 

* * *

 

 

Agape clung to the back of Ludus’ jacket tightly, keeping the briefcase wedged firmly in between his thighs.

He was still processing what had happened, the suddenness of it all leaving him in shock. He couldn’t believe it - they’d got Philautia. How could that happen? More importantly, how the hell did the police know to come?

He yanked the leather hard and Ludus turned his head slightly before switching on the indicator, turning off into a nearby alley. The motorcycle purred to a stop at the dead end, the black paint camouflaged against the darkness.

Immediately, Agape got off, taking off his helmet and throwing it to the ground with a grunt. Ludus switched the bike off and watched as Agape paced up and down, a horrible jumble of emotions on his face as he crouched down and pressed his knuckles to his temple.

“Fuck!”

Ludus remained silent for a few seconds longer before he took off his own helmet and gently hung it over the handlebars, getting off the bike and leaning against it to give Agape space. He wisely chose not to speak, letting Agape sort out his emotions first. He knew him well enough to know when he needed space, and that was something he desperately needed right then.

Nearly half an hour passed before Agape moved, pressing his hands to his face and stifling the sob that had worked its way up. Ludus hesitated before moving to crouch down next to him, resting a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Are you ok?”

Agape snorted in response, and Ludus pretended not to see the tear stains on his cheeks. He turned to Ludus, eyes rimmed red and still shiny from tears. “What- what the fuck?! I don’t understand! How did the pigs know?”

Ludus shook his head slowly. “Someone must have told them.”

“Someone…” Agape breathed in. “Who knew apart from you, Eros, Philautia and I? Philautia’s not stupid enough to turn himself in and I know you and Eros wouldn’t.”

Ludus’ eyebrows came together in a deep frown. “You don’t think Philia or Pragma…?”

“I don’t know,” Agape hissed. “But whoever it was is going to fucking pay.”

The other looked hesitant. “This isn’t just about Philautia, is it?”

“Of course not!” Agape snapped, moving away from Ludus to stand up. “That asshole Nikiforov almost caught Philia and has got Philautia. I don’t know how he did, but how long is it going to be before he finds the rest of us?!”

Ludus remained quiet. He knew why Agape was so worried, and decided not to interrupt.

Agape seemed to be finished, though, and turned around to look down the alley, rubbing furiously at his eyes to rid himself of the redness.

“We’ve got to tell Eros.”

“Do you want me to - ”

“No.” Agape pulled out his phone. “Eros can’t know you were here, or he’s going to freak out and blame you.”

Ludus simply nodded, not liking the secrecy but understanding the need for it. He watched as Agape quickly typed in a number, before holding it to his ear, biting down hard on his lower lip enough to draw blood, as the phone rang once, twice, before it picked up.

“Eros?” He said, voice shaking. “They got Philautia.”

 

* * *

 

 

JJ Leroy had admitted to being Philautia immediately. There was too much evidence stacked against him for him to deny it, and after shooting at the police he was already going to be serving sentence.

Word spread like wildfire, and it seemed as though everyone wanted to see for themselves. Detectives in the offices next to Chris and Viktor’s were completely bewildered by the fact that one of the Eros’ gang had been caught, after three and a half years of searching. It seemed surreal even to Viktor.

But it had happened, and Leroy was in holding, locked away from the outside world.

They tried to keep it quiet in order not to cause too much harm, but soon the media found out and the whole scandal went to print, magazines calling Leroy a fraud and a failure and every other name under the sun. As Viktor had suspected, it destroyed his career and business overnight, and from the depressed look on Leroy’s face Viktor knew that he knew it too.

Regardless of being caught, Leroy wouldn’t say a single word about the rest of the gang or Eros. It frustrated Viktor immensely, but no matter how much he bribed, threatened or pleaded Leroy he wouldn’t say a word. In the end, Viktor had to accept the silence as inevitable. Eros had trained him well.

Instead, he focused on the others. After catching not one but two of the gang, Yakov had promoted him to head of the Eros investigation, which gave him much more access to a range of things that would be helpful in finding Eros. Much to his surprise, though he had a much larger selection of documents, no matter how much he searched he couldn’t find a single file, birth certificate or form on either Chulanont or Leroy, aside from the bare minimum already listed on their respective pages. It was as if everything of their life before had been wiped clean. Viktor quickly discarded the idea of searching through the old records and turned his focus to the one piece of evidence he had - the motorbike the two others had been riding.

He and Chris had spent an hour searching it up from a sketchy design Viktor had drawn, and found out it was a Harley Davidson make; something that was very expensive and undoubtedly paid for by the years of heists. He’d sent a picture around to all officers in the city to watch out for the motorbike and to question anyone, but it seemed as though the owner of the bike and his accomplice were keeping a low profile and hiding it. But Viktor was hopeful - they could not remain under the radar forever. It was only a matter of time.

The few days after Leroy’s capture had been filled with reports, documents and interviews, and it barely gave him time to do anything else. He’d only managed to text Yuuri briefly over that time and was well aware that their schedule of getting coffee was disrupted, but he was sure that Yuuri understood.

Which was why he found himself outside of the local ice rink, folding his jacket over his arm and readjusting his grip on the takeaway cup holder as he peered up at the sign with tired eyes. He’d been neglecting Yuuri for the past few days, and he thought a surprise visit to him with some coffee and green tea would make up for it. He hoped.

The receptionist wasn’t too surprised to see him and greeted him immediately with a knowing smile.

“He’s just out the back. Everyone else has packed up and gone home, so you’ll be on your own.”

Viktor thanked him and made his way out to the rink itself. The room was large and cold, the lights dimmed to a warm yellow colour that reflected off the tall windows and the ice gently.

Yuuri was out on the ice, skating a routine, seemingly unaware of the Russian’s presence. Viktor didn’t alert him, simply stepping closer and placing the drinks atop the barrier so that he could rest his chin in his hands.

It was clear - in every wave of his arm, every slick slide of his blades on the ice, every twirl, every jump, every spin - that Yuuri adored skating. The love showed through his moves, like his body was making music itself, fascinated Viktor to no end. Watching Yuuri on the ice was like watching a different person entirely; a serene and untouchable God.

Eventually, the routine came to an end, Yuuri standing with one arm extended gracefully and the other held to his chest, breath ragged from the exertion. Viktor wasted no time in bringing his hands together, clapping slowly and politely, expression soft and a smile curling his lips, even when Yuuri let out a yelp and turned immediately to face him.

There was a moment's silence before Yuuri’s face broke into a smile and he skated over, reaching over the barrier to give Viktor a tight hug.

“Hello,” Viktor mumbled, resting the side of his head against Yuuri’s own. “I brought drinks.”

“Is this your way of saying sorry?” Yuuri asked, pulling away to pick up his green tea.

Viktor faked a pout. “You saw through it?”

Yuuri just laughed and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh. He drank half of the cup before he turned back to Viktor. “How have the last few days been?”

“Busy,” Viktor said gruffly, taking a sip of his own coffee. “We caught Philautia, as I said, and there’s too much paperwork to fill out. I’ve had to pull an all-nighter twice.”

“You should rest.” Yuuri placed his cup back down. “I’ve just been busying myself with lessons.”

“What about what you were skating just then?” Viktor asked curiously, putting his cup down too. “It was beautiful.”

He noticed the way Yuuri’s cheeks coloured red and he avoided his gaze, looking down sheepishly. “It was the last song I skated to before I had to retire. My free skate routine.”

Viktor knew very little about skating and so didn’t have a clue what that meant, but nodded anyway. “Did it win you gold?”

“Silver,” Yuuri amended. “I was a few points off of the gold.”

“I would’ve given it a gold,” Viktor said with a flirtatious wink, making Yuuri snort.

“The song was composed for me back in Detroit,” he continued, eyes distant. “It was meant to represent my career as a skater. But just after that, my families business went under and I had to give it up to support them.”

Viktor nodded in understanding. “I’d love to hear it sometime.”

Yuuri smiled at him, before raising an eyebrow. “Do you skate?”

“Me? No,” Viktor said with a chuckle. “I never did sports apart from swimming.”

The other hummed and picked up his tea, finishing it off in a few gulps and replacing it, skating backwards. “I could teach you?”

Viktor considered declining – after watching Yuuri skate so elegantly he felt a little embarrassed – but nodded. “Ok. Just be careful – I might accidentally break something.”

A few minutes later Viktor found himself on the ice, Yuuri’s hands warm around his as the Japanese man led him to the centre of the rink. His feet were very unsteady and wobbled frequently, and he had no doubt that if Yuuri wasn’t there he would have fallen within seconds.

“Is this ok?” Yuuri asked, looking down between them to watch his step.

Viktor hummed, too distracted by the way that the light fell on Yuuri’s face and arms to care. It made his skin look soft and warm.

Yuuri looked up, both eyebrows raising at the intensity of Viktor’s gaze. “Viktor.”

“Hm?” He blinked. “Sorry. You were saying?”

Yuuri let out an exasperated laugh and shook his head. “Don’t be so stiff. Put one foot in front of the other and gently push yourself forward. If you need to stop, put the toe of the skate down, but not too much or you’ll fall.”

Viktor’s eyebrows came together in concentration as he did just that, gliding after Yuuri. Yuuri had made it look so effortless, but being on the ice itself was an entirely different experience.

“There, like that,” Yuuri praised, then took a wider step back and only letting Viktor hold one hand. “Now try again.”

Viktor did just that and soon found himself smoothly gliding across the rink, glee welling up in him. However, when it came to stopping, he put the toe of the skate down too quickly and found his balance was lost immediately. Yuuri tried to catch him as he fell, but the weight dragged him down too, and with a loud yelp, Viktor and Yuuri found themselves on the ice.

Viktor was on his knees with his hands braced either side of Yuuri’s head, Yuuri’s back flat on the ice. Their faces centimetres apart. They blinked at each other for a few seconds, stunned, before breaking out into peals of laughter.

“I think I should stick to detective work,” Viktor joked. Yuuri laughed, reaching up and cupping Viktor’s face in his hands.

Viktor just smiled as Yuuri traced the outline of his face with his fingertips, a soft and fond smile on his own face which remained as Viktor leaned down to close the gap between them.

“You really are beautiful,” Viktor murmured as they parted, and Yuuri shook his head with a grin before standing. He helped Viktor to his feet, holding onto his hands tightly.

“Alright, I’ll try again,” Viktor said, looking determined. “You wouldn’t mind giving an extra lesson?”

Yuuri smiled at him. “Of course not. Just don’t take your eyes off me.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Don’t you fucking dare accuse me of calling those pigs!” Agape spat, slamming his hands down on the table in anger. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you hate Philautia,” Pragma argued with a hiss, eyes narrowing. “None of us would have done it!”

The meeting between the five remaining members of Eros’ gang had finally taken place almost a week after Philautia’s capture. It was too dangerous before then; the police were on high lookout and the media were even more ruthless in pursuit of gossip, and so each had had to stay low.

However, as soon as the meeting had started, accusations had begun flying. It was a great mystery as to who had called the police, one that each of them was determined to solve. Much to Agape’s dislike, the evidence had strongly pointed towards him, and Pragma had spent no time in pointing that out.

“What about you?” Agape shot back, fingers curling into fists. “You’re a snide and smug bastard, so I wouldn’t put it past you to tell them!”

“I didn’t know anything about it until Philia told me!”

“Why don’t we just calm it down for now?” Philia asked weakly, shying away from the raised voices. He looked across the table, where Eros was watching the two argue with a blank expression, eyes watchful. He had barely said anything since the meeting began and wasn’t quelling the arguments within them like he normally did. Philia knew him well enough to know that he was assessing the situation; making up his own judgement as to what had happened.

Next to Agape, Ludus remained silent too, simply watching the debate. He hadn't said much either, but then again he never did. It was always Agape that did the talking.

“I don’t trust you in the slightest,” Pragma told Agape, sitting back in his seat.

“Likewise,” Agape snarled back, folding his arms with a loud huff and glaring at Pragma over the table.

Philia broke in quickly. “What do you think, Eros?”

Eros looked at him, gaze calm and collected. He then turned to Agape, an eyebrow raised in question. “You brought Ludus, didn’t you?”

Agape opened his mouth to object, but the hardness in Eros’ expression made him pause. He wasn’t sure how Eros had come to that conclusion, but he was right, and there was no point in denying it.

“Yes.”

All eyes turned to Ludus, who remained stony faced, but the nervousness showed in his eyes.

“Ludus wouldn’t have said anything, so leave him alone,” Agape said, voice challenging.

“I know,” Eros responded, shifting in his seat. He knew for a fact it wasn’t Ludus who had said it - his loyalty to Agape was far too strong. Besides, he was much smarter than that.

Ludus eyes showed his relief, however Eros wasn’t finished. “Did Agape do it?”

“No,” Ludus responded. “It wasn’t him.”

“I don’t believe you,” Pragma grumbled, earning a growl from Agape.

Eros stared at Ludus for a little while longer, before tearing his gaze away to look at Philia and Pragma. Theoretically, it could have been anyone, and Eros had his suspicions. But for now, he wasn’t going to voice them.

“We have to be more cautious now that Philautia is gone,” Eros said slowly. “We can’t afford any mistakes. Any heists now will be because it’s absolutely necessary.”

The four of them nodded solemnly.

“You don’t think Philautia will tell, do you?” Philia asked, looking scared. “Who knows what they’re doing to him?”

Eros shook his head. “He wouldn’t. You all took that vow when you began working for me, and I trust you all not to break it.”

Pragma and Agape’s eyes flickered to each other, before they went back to Eros.

“Let’s hope so,” Pragma said with an elongated sigh. He then pursed his lips. “So if any of us get caught, we just have to keep our mouths shut?”

Eros hummed in response, lacing his fingers together. “If any more of us get caught, then it could very well be the end of this organisation, and lifetime imprisonment.”

Fear arose in the rest of them, Agape and Pragma’s faces paling immediately.

“However,” Eros said, looking up languidly. “I will be finding out who the perpetrator is.”

Agape glared at Pragma. “Then we can find out which one of us is really guilty.”

“Indeed,” Eros responded. “For now, keep your heads down and don’t get caught.”

He stood, gesturing for the others to follow, before dismissing them. After a few more heated words between Pragma and Agape, the two left with Ludus following closely behind, leaving Philia and Eros on their own.

When Philia was sure the others were out of earshot, he turned to Eros. “You already have an idea who it is, don’t you?”

Eros nodded. “I do, but I won’t act on it yet. I need to be sure.”

Philia sighed and pushed a palm through his hair. “Is this the end of it all?”

“I don’t know,” Eros said truthfully, looking at Philia. “But it’s time to start taking Nikiforov seriously.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One down, now five to go!  
> Finally Viktor and Chris are getting somewhere, huh?  
> Also, if any of you are confused as to the behaviour of Viktor and Yuuri, they have already begun dating. I'm aiming to keep their relationship subtle but obvious, like in the anime, so it's a side story alongside the main one.   
> Thank you to everyone who left such nice comments and kudos! It makes me so happy! I'm glad you're all enjoying it! Remember, theories are very welcomed! I know there have been a few debates over the identity of Pragma, so it's interesting to see what you guys think, especially in the later chapters.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time!
> 
> \- Charlie


	6. Coffee

In the aftermath of Philautia’s arrest, Viktor found he had more energy than he had ever had before.

The excitement of finally capturing one of Eros’ gang had given him newfound hope that it was possible for them to get caught. No longer were they phantoms, immortal and infallible, but humans like any other. The gang was not as far out of reach as Viktor had initially thought.

This energy burned through his veins and made him restless, so much so that he could barely sit still in his chair. Chris had noticed his new energy immediately and, naturally, had made some inappropriate comments, aside from which he seemed pleased that Viktor was as eager, if not more, as the day he’d been introduced to the case. The enthusiasm also began to infect Chris before too long, and Viktor could say with certainty that this had brought them closer together as a team.

Over the past week or so, much like his coffee dates with Yuuri, he had established a routine of picking Chris up and driving to work. They’d lived closer together than Viktor had realised, and as the weather was steadily turning colder with the end of the year approaching he had seen no harm in it. It was enjoyable, he had to admit; hearing Chris complain about the early start whilst fixing his hair in the car mirrors and laughing at his snide comments about other drivers.

However, though the winter air sent chills down his spine, today Viktor couldn’t bring himself to drive. He was far too full of energy, and since Chris was undoubtedly expecting him he went for the next best option: walking.

Viktor pressed his face further into the thick scarf around his neck, silently wishing he’d put on more layers. The area had experienced a cold snap these past few days, and Viktor wouldn’t have been shocked if snow began to fall. It was December after all, and nearly three months now since he’d had his first interview with Yakov. It amazed him how much things had progressed in the past few months, and it only seemed to spur him on more. He’d done more in three months than the police had done in three years, after all, and had even been promoted to head the case.

As he neared Chris’ house, he was surprised to see that he wasn’t waiting outside on the pavement. Viktor had never once had to leave the car on these mornings. Perhaps he was earlier than he had thought.

He debated whether or not to wait outside for a few more minutes before knocking, glancing down the empty sidewalk. Another strong gust of wind settled his mind, and he hurried to the front door of the quaint but cosy house. It took a few minutes after he knocked for the door to be opened - and, to Viktor’s great surprise, it wasn’t Chris who answered it.

Instead the door was opened by a handsome young man, his wavy brown hair parted in the middle to reveal light eyes that mirrored Viktor’s surprise. It seemed as though he was in the process of getting dressed; his tie was half tied, his hair pointing sixteen different directions, and he had only one sock on.

Viktor smiled as if this was perfectly ordinary, hoping he wasn’t too early. “Is Chris home?”

The man blinked twice before awkwardly returning his smile. “Uh… yes, yes he is. He’s just getting dressed.”

It was then that Viktor heard Chris’ voice from deeper within the house; calling in a language that Viktor recognised immediately as French.

“Qui est là?”

“Viktor!” The other male responded, glancing back over his shoulder. Viktor wondered how he knew his name, but before he could ask there were the sound of rushed footsteps. Chris came flying down the stairs, just as dishevelled as the other man with his eyes filled with concern.

“Hello,” Chris greeted, a little out of breath, as he pushed the young man out of the doorway. “You’re early. Where’s the car?”

“I walked,” Viktor replied distractedly, noticing how the brown haired man lingered, unsure of what to do, watching their exchange curiously. Chris noticed the other too and frowned. In rapid French, he shooed him upstairs to get changed, before inviting Viktor into the warmth of the house. It was a stark contrast to the chilliness outside, and Viktor was glad that he hadn’t waited.

“Who was that?” Viktor inquired after shutting the door, following Chris through to a spacious kitchen.

“A friend,” Chris responded smoothly with a smile, turning to look at Viktor briefly. “He lives with me; saves money, wouldn’t you agree?”

Though Viktor highly doubted that, especially with Chris being Chris, he pushed the thought aside and took a moment to instead admire the home he had stepped into. Just like on the outside it was quaint and warm, soft pastel colours on the walls and on the furniture. It was quite charming and reflected the less salacious side of Chris perfectly. In the kitchen, Viktor couldn’t suppress his awed excitement upon seeing a beautiful cream coloured cat spread languidly across the countertop, watching Viktor with a flick of her bushy tail.

“She’s beautiful,” Viktor murmured after a few minutes of running a hand along her soft fur. The cat purred happily in response, clearly enjoying the attention.

Chris chuckled, straightening his tie in a small mirror in the corner of the room. “She’s also very spoilt.”

“How can you not spoil her?” Viktor protested, rubbing the cat’s head affectionately when she nuzzled into him. “I’d love a pet.”

“I get my friend to spoil her when I’m not here,” Chris mused, running a hand through his hair and winking flirtatiously at his reflection. “She loves him. Probably even more than she loves me.”

Once Chris was dressed, Viktor mournfully said goodbye to the cat before following him out of the house. The young man had made himself scarce after their brief encounter, and Chris didn’t even bother to say goodbye to him. Though Viktor was bemused, he pushed his curiosity to one side again and instead smiled at Chris’ displeased comments about the cold. When they fell into a comfortable silence walking along the frosted pavement, Viktor brought up the question that had lingered at the forefront of his mind.

“You know French?”

Chris cast him a sideways glance, amused at the question. “I’m Swiss. It’s obligated.”

Viktor had heard the intonation of an accent in Chris’ voice but, not wanting to be rude, hadn’t brought it up. He gave the other a wry smile. “I suppose so.”

“Do you know any French?”

Viktor nodded. “I was taught English, French and Russian at a young age, so I like to think I’m well spoken in each.”

“Tu as des yeux beaux.”

“Merci,” Viktor replied automatically, making Chris laugh.

“Ok, I believe you.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, that could be very useful during interviews. Or if Yakov’s in the room.”

Viktor shook his head, though a smile still lingered on his lips. “You’ll just make him even more annoyed.”

“Dear Viktor, when is Yakov Feltsman not annoyed?”

Viktor chuckled and shook his head. It was true.

“How’s it going with Yuuri?” The question from Chris wasn’t surprising; he took great interest in Viktor’s progress with Yuuri Katsuki and hadn’t stopped bugging him for every scrap of information since they had started officially dating.

“It’s going well,” Viktor responded, lips curling into a smile at the thought of Yuuri. “He’s shy, but honest.” He pulled a face. “Well, usually honest.”

“How so?” Chris asked with a crease in his eyebrows.

Viktor raised a hand to his temple, rubbing it between forefinger and thumb. “He didn’t tell me it was his birthday last week.”

“What?!”

Viktor shook his head exasperatedly. “It was only when I made a comment about how his phone kept vibrating when he said they were birthday messages. I still feel awful.”

“What did you do?”

“I took him out to dinner as an apology. He didn’t seem to mind.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “That man is frustrating…”

Viktor opened his mouth to reply when Chris abruptly stopped, head turned to one side to read a sign, before looking back at Viktor with  surprising urgency.

“Viktor! I need to stop here immediately.”

Viktor looked startled. “Why?”

Chris gestured to the shop they had stopped by, bright banners advertising a variety of coffee. “If you want me to survive the rest of the walk, we’re stopping here.”

Again, Viktor shook his head with a chuckle.

 

* * *

 

 

The shop was a convenience store, walls lined with rows and rows of sweets and chocolates and, much to Chris’ delight, a strange sort of coffee maker on the far wall.

The shop had just finished opening, an elderly man still lining the last of the liquor on the back shelves as they walked in. He was stern looking, eyes sharp and protruding, fixing straight on the two detectives the second they came inside. It gave Viktor the vague impression that he was unimpressed by their presence, this only being reinforced when he disappeared out the back of the shop.

Chris seemed too preoccupied with the coffee machine to notice, but Viktor did his best to ignore the uneasy feeling that welled up in his stomach.

“Let’s see…” Chris mused quietly, picking up a styrofoam cup from a holder and squinting at the variety of coffee options. “Not decaf. Definitely not decaf. If we’re going to carry on with raking that folder apart I need as much energy as I can get.”

“It could be worse,” Viktor said, eyes scanning the shelves and noticing how a good proportion of the foods were Russian. “The folder could be thicker.”

One packet in particular caught his eye, and he stepped forward to retrieve it from the shelf with mild curiosity.

“What’s that?” Chris asked, having finished with his coffee choosing, and cradling the styrofoam cup to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Pirozhki. They’re filled buns.”

Chris took the packet from Viktor to read what it contained, his nose wrinkling when he realised it was in Russian. “Authentic.”

“You can try one,” Viktor said, amused, as Chris handed it back. He turned to look for the elderly man.

It was only then that he realised they were being watched.

His eyes caught on the counter, noticing for the first time that there was someone behind it. The young boy was quite small, explaining why he’d escaped Viktor’s notice until now, his feet propped up on the counter and his thumb hovering over his phone screen like he had been scrolling but had stopped in favour of observing the duo. His gaze on Chris and Viktor was intense, brilliantly green eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What else do they have here?” Chris voice interrupted his stare, seemingly unaware of the exchange.

Viktor turned towards the shelves again as Chris picked up something else, translating the names of them for him. He glanced up when someone else entered the shop, not particularly paying attention, until the blond behind the counter stood abruptly.

“You got the stuff?”

Viktor was surprised to find the language that rolled off the young boy’s tongue was Russian rather than English. The newcomer – a boy not much older than the other with an undercut and a piercing gaze – nodded and lifted the cardboard box.

“It’s all here,” he responded in the same language. “Including that new type you wanted to try out.”

“Seriously?” The blond came around the counter and pawed through the box, before pulling up a packet of pirozhki. He studied it for a few seconds, before nodding and taking it back behind the counter. “Take it out to Grandpa, he’s got another job for you.”

The other nodded and turned, meeting Viktor’s gaze briefly, before disappearing out the back of the shop. Viktor turned his gaze back to the boy, almost starting when he noticed that he was in fact glaring right back at him. He quickly turned back to Chris, who had gathered up an armful of various snacks, and was looking at Viktor expectantly.

“I think we deserve some treats after what we’ve done. I’ve always wanted to try Russian food.”

Viktor laughed and followed him to the counter, where the blond gave them a distasteful look at the amount of food and typed in the total on the cash register. He stuffed them all into a bag before thrusting it into Chris’ arms, accepting their money and giving them their change, before sitting back down dismissively.

“Little ray of sunshine, wasn’t he?” Chris grumbled as the two of them left the shop, sliding his wallet into his back pocket.

Viktor went to agree, before he froze.

Outside the front of the shop was a motorcycle. But not just any motorcycle – the same Harley Davidson make he’d seen on the night of the crime. He remembered it quite distinctly, from the orange marks to the purr of the engine, and the bike in front of him slotted into his memory perfectly. The only difference was that this bike had a number plate, whereas the one he’d seen hadn’t. But that made sense; you couldn’t go driving around in public without one, it would attract too much attention.

Viktor glanced up as the shop door opened again and the other teenager exited, putting away a list inside his coat pocket. He regarded Viktor curiously before going over to the bike and putting on the helmet, switching it on. The rumble of the engine was just like Viktor remembered, and the sound sent a shudder up Viktor’s spine as the bike pulled away and sped up the street.

“Viktor?”

Chris’ voice brought him back to reality, and he turned to look at him with excited eyes.

“That motorcycle is the same one from the night we caught Philautia.”

Chris’ eyes grew comically wide, and he looked up the street from where the bike had departed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“What are we going to do?”

Viktor tapped a finger to his lips in thought, a frown creasing his eyebrows. “We’ll come back the same time tomorrow and catch him. He has to be brought in for questioning.”

Chris nodded in response, eyebrows creasing into a frown that matched Viktor’s. “You think he’s part of Eros’ gang? He looks too young.”

The Russian shook his head slowly, thoughtfully. “It makes sense having someone that young. They won’t be suspected. Someone that young could fit the description of –”

“Agape or Ludus!” Chris finished eagerly. “Innocent love and love in childhood.”

“Exactly.”

Viktor turned to look up the street too, letting out a prolonged breath. “Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow we’ll bring him into questioning, then we can find out if he really is part of Eros’ gang.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Viktor found himself stationed near the convenience store, huddled in the police car alongside Chris. He was thankful that they hadn’t chosen to walk to work today, as the wind was icy and the weather report had predicted a high possibility of snow.

Regardless of the heating in the car, the two detectives shivered violently in their seats, bundled up against the growing cold.

“I wish he’d hurry up,” Chris grumbled, eyeing the motorcycle a hundred meters away. “I’ll turn into a block of ice if he’s much longer.”

Viktor turned the heating up some more, fingers curling around the steering wheel tighter. “He is taking a long time. Do you think he saw the police car and escaped?”

Chris shook his head. “Eros’ strategy seems to be to make them as inconspicuous as possible, as we saw with Chulanont and Leroy. I doubt he would run away.”

“That’s a very good point.”

“Even if we do detain him,” Chris continued. “Leroy and Chulanont didn’t show any sort of resistance. If we compare their behaviour to his, maybe we’ll have our next suspect.”

“The only thing we’ll need to find is solid evidence against him.” Viktor hummed in thought. “The motorcycle isn’t enough – lots of people have that make, and since we didn’t see his or his accomplices’ faces we’ll need something like a direct confession.”

Chris exhaled slowly. “That’s a lot harder said than done, I’m afraid.”

It was a few minutes afterwards that the motorcyclist – name still unknown to them – appeared. Like previously, he slipped the note into his breast pocket and secured the helmet, before mounting the bike and speeding off along the street with a rumbling purr.

“Here we go,” Chris said as Viktor started up the engine and followed the motorcyclist. “We can’t lose sight of him.”

Luckily for them both, the motorcyclist didn’t make any sharp turns or abrupt stops, instead staying on the main road and following the bends. Since the bike was so big, weaving in and out of traffic was impossible, which meant that he shouldn’t leave Chris and Viktor’s sight.

It carried on for fifteen minutes or so before they came to a clearer part of road, where they were directly behind the cyclist and could safely pull him over.

“Ok, sirens on,” Chris said as he activated the sirens and watched the motorcyclist glance in his mirror. For a moment, Viktor worried that he was going to speed off and a chase would begin, but the cyclist complied and instead switched on his indicator and pulled over to the nearest lay by. Viktor parked the car a few meters away before getting out.

“I’ll stay here,” Chris told him as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Just in case he tries to get away.”

Viktor nodded and walked up to the cyclist, who had removed his helmet to address the detective.

“Something wrong?” He asked, voice laced with questioning, and Viktor smiled at him dryly.

“We’d like to take you in for a formal interview. It’s regarding your motorcycle.”

“My motorcycle?” A frown appeared on the teenagers face.

“We believe it was involved in a police incident last week. The questions won’t be anything too personal, just an assessment, and then you’ll be let go. It’ll be greatly beneficial.”

The teenager seemed to contemplate it, and Viktor grew anxious over the fact that he might speed off. The last thing he wanted was for the boy in front of him to be involved with Eros and then slip through his fingers, like with Chulanont.

However, after a moments pause, the motorcyclist nodded and dismounted the bike, pulling it over to the side of the road and turning back to the detective.

“Will it be safe here?”

“I’ll have someone pick it up for you,” Viktor assured him, taking the keys from the teenager before directing him to the police car. He guided him into the back seat, hand placed delicately over his head, before getting in the front passenger seat and locking the doors securely.

“I’m going to have someone analyse the motorcycle and look on the security cameras,” Viktor told Chris in French. “Then we can see if he really is involved in the incident.”

“Are we interviewing him?” Chris responded, pulling away from the kerb and glancing at the motorcyclist in the mirror. He was looking distractedly out of the window with a slant in his eyebrows, not acknowledging the detectives in the slightest.

“We are. As I said earlier, maybe we can get a confession.”

Viktor glanced at the teenager too. “Something tells me he isn’t as innocent as he looks. My gut instinct hasn’t been wrong yet, but we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Chris nodded in agreement, pursing his lips. “I hope you’re right about this, otherwise I can’t ever go to that shop again. It would be a shame since the coffee was amazing.”

Viktor snorted.

 

* * *

 

 

When Philia opened the door, the last thing he had expected was for Agape to shove him out of the way and come storming inside. He barely had time to turn his head to look at him in shock before he was snarling at him.

“Where’s Eros?!”

“He - he’s in the kitchen,” Philia answered, taken aback by the sheer coldness in Agape’s voice. His eyes were alight with anger and his teeth were gritted like some sort of wild animal. He’d never seen Agape like this before and it was terrifying.

Eros looked up from his laptop with a questioning gaze as Agape stomped over and slammed his hands down on the countertop, making Eros start.

“I’m going to fucking kill Pragma!”

“Calm down,” Eros hushed, closing his laptop and moving it to the side as Philia joined them in the kitchen, loitering, uncertain, in the doorway. “What happened?”

“Ludus has gone missing!”

A few beats of silence took over the room, only interrupted by the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, as they absorbed the information. Philia turned a deathly pale and swallowed thickly, whereas Eros’ eyebrows furrowed.

“How do you know?”

“He hasn’t responded to his phone for nearly six hours!”

Philia and Eros glanced at each other.

“Are you sure he’s not just busy?” Philia said disbelievingly, flinching a little when Agape hissed at him.

“You don’t understand! We talk every second of day and he’s never once not read my message immediately!”

Eros wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I don’t think he’s missing –”

“I went looking for him.” Agape seemed to calm a little now, his face betraying concern rather than anger. “I found his motorcycle.”

Then, just like that, Eros believed him. Ludus was a very careful and calculated person, like Eros himself. He knew much better than to leave his motorcycle out in the open where the police could find it.

“Why was he using it in the first place?” Philia closed his eyes. “He knows the police are looking, so why didn’t you say to him?”

“He needed to use it,” Agape spat. “He has no other transport!”

“Then he should’ve walked, or –”

“Alright,” Eros interrupted with a wave of his hand. He could see the anger building in Agape’s shoulders and the last thing they needed was more confrontation. “Calm down. I’m sure that Ludus was caught up with something or had to hide quickly. He can take care of himself.

“However,” Eros continued as Agape opened his mouth. “I don’t see why you’re blaming Pragma.”

“I don’t trust him,” Agape said, voice quivering. “He’s dangerous. I fucking hate him as much as I hate Philautia. I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like this.”

“You don’t know that for certain. There isn’t any proof against him.”

“I know that,” Agape growled. “But if it’s his fault that something happened to Ludus, I’ll kill him.”

With that, Agape turned and left the house as abruptly as he had entered it. After the door had been slammed hard enough to make the window panes rattle, Philia tuned to Eros.

“We’re falling apart.”

Eros let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly for a few seconds before inhaling. “We have to get rid of Nikiforov.”

Philia stared at him, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, before nodding. “I agree. If this carries on we’ll get caught.”

Philia watched as Eros took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. His expression softened and he turned to Philia.

“We’ll have to plan this out carefully. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Philia hesitated, noticing the way Eros averted his eyes. “Are… you sure about this?”

After a few seconds silence, Eros nodded firmly. His eyes were cold and determined. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He turned back to his laptop, pulling it closer and opening up a separate tab before typing into the search bar.

Philia watched from the side, lips pressed into a flat line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go!  
> We're very sorry the fic didn't update last week - in between exams and illness it was pretty tough, so it was put back! Things will hopefully be carrying on as normal now! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently, left kudos and commented! We're very glad you enjoyed it and look forward to see your theories!
> 
> See you next week!
> 
> \- Charlie
> 
> Translations:
> 
> > “Qui est là?” = "Who's that?" [French]  
> > “Tu as des yeux beaux” = "You have beautiful eyes." [French]  
> > "Merci." = "Thank you." [French]
> 
> {Please not that we do not speak this language - feel free to correct it if it's wrong!}


	7. Seduction

“I can’t believe it,” Chris mumbled, slumping against the desk. “No matter what we do or say or threaten, he’s shut up like a clam.”  
Viktor pursed his lips, leaning back in his chair and staring at the monitor. On the other side of the screen the motorcyclist sat, hands tied behind the chair and eyes gazing steadily at the wall. He answered the standard questions about his motorcycle without argument, however when the subject had turned to Eros he had refused to say another word. He just stared, lips pressed into a flat line, blinking slowly and calmly at the detectives regardless of what they said to him.  
“It’s strange,” Viktor mused, placing a finger against his lip. “Chulanont said he didn’t have anything to do with it, so did Leroy, but he’s saying nothing at all. He’s not even protesting his guilt.”  
Chris hummed. “Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t have an alibi? Chulanont and Leroy both had one, but he doesn’t. His bike is the same make and he roughly fits the description of one of them. Maybe it’s because he knows that the odds are stacked against him.”  
“Maybe…” Viktor looked at the notes he had scribbled down in the steadily thickening folder. “His behaviour matches Leroy’s perfectly. It could be coincidence, but when Eros is involved I doubt it.  
“Speaking of which,” Viktor glanced at Chris. “Did you find out his name?”  
“Yeah. Emil, Mila and I spent nearly the whole night looking him up since he won’t say anything.” He pulled out his phone and with a few taps brought up a screen. “His name is Otabek Altin, Kazakh, eighteen years old.”  
“That’s it?”  
Chris nodded. “Everything else has been wiped clean.”  
“Then there’s no doubt about it.” Viktor’s smile widened. “He’s one of Eros’ gang.”  
“Not in Yakov’s eyes,” Chris corrected. “There’s not enough evidence.”  
“What about the motorcycle?” Viktor said, pursing his lips. “Maybe they can find evidence from that.”  
His stomach sank as he noticed Chris’ hesitation. “What happened?”  
“The motorcycle went missing.” Chris avoided his gaze. “I sent some junior officers over there to retrieve it, but it’s gone.”  
Viktor groaned and rested his forehead against his desk in defeat. “Now what are we going to do?”  
“Keep him in holding like Leroy,” Chris offered, then grinned. “Congratulations, though – you’ve caught two of the Eros’ gang.”  
Viktor shook his head. “Not yet. I’ll only say that once he’s behind bars. There’s always room for mistakes.”  
It was then that Viktor’s phone pinged with a text message. He wasted no time in pulling it out, face brightening when he saw who it was.  
“Yuuri?” Chris asked, watching Viktor’s expression.  
Viktor hummed happily, but his eyebrows creased together as he read the message.  
   
 

  
From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [13:08 – 15/12]  
   
Any idea what you want to do for your birthday?

  
   
   
“What is it?”  
Viktor sighed. “He wants to do something for my birthday. I still feel bad about forgetting his.”  
“It was his fault, though,” Chris chuckled lightly, stretching out his arms and legs before curling up in his chair again. “He didn’t tell you.”  
“I still can’t accept anything,” Viktor replied, thumbs flying as he sent a message back.  
   
 

  
From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [13:09 – 15/12]  
   
Yuuuuuuuuuuriiiiiiiiiiiii you don’t have to do anything  
   
 

  
From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [13:11 – 15/12]  
   
You did something for me on my birthday!

  
   
   
Chris laughed, clearly amused when Viktor’s face contorted into a deep frown. “Stubborn, isn’t he?”  
“You don’t say,” Viktor said dryly, running a palm through his hair. “He’s even worse than me.”  
Chris whistled loudly, crossing one leg over the other. “That’s saying something. You two make a very interesting couple.”  
The Russian simply scoffed.  
 

  
   
From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [13:14 – 15/12]  
   
I would’ve done more if you’d told me it was your birthday (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

  
   
   
From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [13:17 – 15/12]  
   
Haha, ok you have a point  
   
What about dinner?  
   
 

  
   
From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [13:18 – 15/12]  
   
Yuuri………..  
 

  
   
   
“Dinner’s a very good option,” Chris said when Viktor made a face, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair. “He gets something out of it too rather than buy you a present, and you can split the bill.”  
Viktor considered it. “You’re right… I just hope he doesn’t pick anything too expensive.”  
   
 

  
From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [13:22 – 15/12]  
   
?  
 

  
   
From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [13:24 – 15/12]  
   
… Ok….  
   
What do you have in mind?  
 

  
   
From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [13:30 – 15/12]  
   
Well… I know you like sushi. There’s a sushi restaurant I know a ten minute walk from my house

  
   
   
“You like sushi, he likes sushi,” Chris laughed. “Sounds like a match made in heaven. And it’s not a five star restaurant.”  
Viktor smiled, a gentle involuntary one, as he stared at his phone screen. He was flattered that Yuuri remembered – he’d only briefly said it in passing weeks ago on one of their coffee shop dates. It would be a nice place to relax, too, in contrast with the strictness of high class restaurants which Viktor had occasionally visited. They could be themselves and have fun, maybe even with a bottle of sake or two.  
 

  
   
From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [13:32 – 15/12]  
   
You know the way to my heart  <3 <3 <3

  
   
   
From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [13:36 – 15/12]  
   
I’ll take that as a yes  
   
I’ll make a reservation tomorrow for the 17th?  
 

  
   
From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [13:38 – 15/12]  
   
Can’t wait!  
   
You’re so good to me ( ´ ♡ ` )  
   
I love you ( ˘ ³˘)♥

  
   
   
From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [13:40 – 15/12]  
   
Love you too  <2  
   
*<3

  
   
   
“That’s so sweet,” Chris cooed, voice light and airy as he gazed at the phone screen with his chin rested on the palm of his hand. “You two make a cute couple.”  
Viktor laughed, embarrassed. “Thanks. We’re still getting used to each other… but honestly Chris, this man has my heart.”  
“As long as he doesn’t break it,” Chris said, eyebrows furrowing. “Or we’re going to have a nice little chat.”  
Viktor snorted. “I don’t see that happening any time soon.” He paused, sighing softly as he looked down at his phone. “He’s amazing, Chris.”  
Chris grinned and pulled back, settling in his own chair once again. “Hm. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get some after the date.”  
His body convulsed with unrestrained laughter as Viktor gathered up the folder and smacked him upside the head repeatedly.  
   
 

* * *

  
   
Agape checked the time on his phone for the fourth time in five minutes, gritting his teeth. Philia was nearly half an hour late, and hadn’t even bothered to message him to let him know.  
With Ludus gone he felt uncomfortably alone and vulnerable. The two would accompany each other anywhere and everywhere – even to a small meeting like this. It made him uneasy, not having the other’s familiar presence.  
Agape was convinced that Ludus had been caught, but Eros and Philia still reassured him that he was probably laying low for some reason or another. It just didn’t settle right with Agape – it said he was last online days ago, not to mention the fact he’d left his precious motorcycle out in the open in broad daylight. It wasn’t like him.  
Another part of him also said that Pragma was involved. He’d made himself very scarce since the capture of Leroy, and it was concerning. Who knew what he was up to?  
The sound of rushed footsteps caught his attention and he looked up, slipping his phone back into his pocket. The alley was dark enough that he could easily hide in the shadows undetected, however he recognised the newcomer immediately. Philia looked flushed and panicked, eyes scanning the alleyway uncertainly.  
“Agape?” He whispered, looking around him in a full circle and yelping when Agape stepped forward into the dull light flooding down the alley.  
“You’re late.”  
Philia frowned at him and shook his head, before stepping closer, pulling the rucksack off of his back.  
“As you know, we’ve been tracking Nikiforov. We’ve finally found the perfect opportunity to take him out.”  
“What does this have to do with me?”  
Philia glanced at him, chewing nervously on his lower lip. “Eros… Eros wants you to do it. You know he never does the work himself and I’d be too conspicuous. Pragma is also doing his own things...”  
Agape’s throat tightened and his pupils contracted. Eros wanted him to kill Nikiforov?  
Philia saw his hesitation and gave him a sympathetic look. “If you don’t want to, we could hire–”  
Agape growled and snatched the rucksack off of him. “I’ll do it. I need to get back at that asshole Nikiforov and the whole of his police force.”  
The other nodded slowly as Agape wrestled with the zip a moment longer before yanking it open and pulling out a gun. It weighed heavily in his palm, and he spent a few seconds looking at it before tearing his gaze back to Philia, who avoided his eyes.  
“This isn’t long-ranged.”  
“That’s because you’re not doing it from a long range. Eros doesn’t want any mistakes.”  
Agape couldn’t help but laugh. “He wants me to walk right up to Nikiforov and put a bullet in his brain?”  
“You’re agile and innocent,” Philia said. “You can run if you get caught.”  
Agape stared down at the pistol, chewing anxiously on his lower lip. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to use it – Eros had trained him to use a range of firearms in the many years they’d known each other – but the thought of actually having to use it was terrifying. So many things could go wrong, not to mention the fact it would be the first time he’d have had to kill anyone –  
“Agape?” Philia looked concerned, watching him carefully.  
“I’m fine,” he responded automatically, stuffing the gun back in the bag and hooking it over his shoulder. “When?”  
“Tomorrow night.” Philia smiled weakly. “He’s going on a date. You need to find an opportunity to kill him in that timeframe.”  
Agape simply nodded, eyes narrowing. He’d have to time it perfectly. He couldn’t let Eros, or Ludus, down.  
“I’ll do it.”  
Philia watched him walk off, melting into the shadows of the alleyway and into the silence of the night. For a few minutes Philia simply stood there, still and quiet, before he sighed to himself and turned back down the alleyway.  
“This isn’t going to work...”  
 

* * *

  
   
When Viktor saw Yuuri step through the doorway of his house to meet him outside, he swore he fell in love all over again.  
Yuuri looked perfect – dark coat hanging down to his thighs and a scarf covering the lower half of his face as he peered shyly up at Viktor. His glasses were perched on his nose and his hair fell messily in front of his eyes, and Viktor couldn’t picture anything more adorable if he tried.  
“Yuuri!” He said as soon as the Japanese man was outside, greeting him with a small kiss. “You look stunning.”  
Yuuri flushed at the compliment, but Viktor caught the edge of a smile on his lips as he shut the door and locked it before turning back to face him.  
“Are you ready to go?”  
Viktor nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile lighting up his face as they began walking down the street. It didn’t take long for Viktor to discreetly reach over and slide his fingers into Yuuri’s – lacing them together with ease. Yuuri visibly winced, still not entirely used to the whole concept, but allowed Viktor to take his hand and guide him down the street. It made Viktor swell with pride – once upon a time Yuuri couldn’t even properly look him in the eyes, but here they were a few months down the line and Yuuri seemed to trust Viktor completely.  
The walk there was pleasant, albeit dark as the end of the year was approaching with only the street lamps there to illuminate the path ahead. The street was relatively empty since Yuuri lived on the outskirts, and Viktor felt strangely at peace; Yuuri’s hand was warm in his own, and the atmosphere between them was comfortable and calm as they talked about anything that came to mind and, more often than not, lapsed into peaceful silence.  
In no time, Viktor found himself seated opposite Yuuri in the sushi restaurant, a multitude of plates stacked up between them. Yuuri was halfway through a pork cutlet bowl, watching Viktor with amusement as he retold a story from his childhood.  
“ – and so I said,” Viktor waved a shrimp around violently in-between his chopsticks. ““What do you mean it’s alive? You have to eat the octopus alive?!” And refused to go anywhere near it.”  
Yuuri’s laughter seem to fill the whole restaurant as he laid down his chopsticks and put his head in his hands. “Oh, Viktor…”  
“And the moral of that story,” Viktor chuckled, “is to read the menu before you order in Korean restaurants.”  
Viktor grinned and ate the shrimp as Yuuri snorted, before leaning across the table to pick up his drink. Along with the food they had ordered sake, and Viktor could feel himself relaxing more and more as the alcohol flooded his system. Though it was pleasant, he was determined to at least stay a little sober – he had a tendency to lose all filter when drunk, and the last thing he wanted was to ruin their date with his babbling.  
He noticed Yuuri watching him from the gaps between his fingers and smiled warmly. “Thanks for this.”  
“It’s no problem,” Yuuri said, seeming to have recovered from his laughing fit as he sat up and reached for his chopsticks. “You’ve been stressed with work, so I thought you deserved something nice for your birthday.”  
“This is perfect,” Viktor said, scooping up some more food. “This is more than I could’ve asked for.”  
Yuuri seemed to preen slightly at the compliment as he took a sip of his drink. “Speaking of which… How’s the case going?”  
Viktor finished his mouthful thoughtfully, before exhaling. “We have a suspect. He owns the same motorcycle as the one we saw when we caught Philautia, and I suspect he’s one of Eros’ gang too.”  
Yuuri nodded solemnly. “I see… I hope he is part of Eros’ gang. Then you only have three left.”  
“Four,” Viktor amended. “I’m not counting Chulanont until I capture him.”  
“Seems fair,” Yuuri smiled at him.  
“The thing is though…” Viktor frowned at his plate. “The motorcycle has gone missing – the only evidence that we potentially had against him. Now the only way we can convict him is if we get a direct confession.”  
Yuuri frowned. Viktor was about to ask him what was wrong, when Yuuri reached across the table hesitantly. His hand slid into Viktor’s own where it rested on the table, interlocking their fingers. Viktor looked at him questioningly, but Yuuri just averted his eyes and instead focused on his food.  
“Yuuri… Are you ok?” Viktor ran his thumb over Yuuri’s knuckles gently. “You seem distracted.”  
Yuuri shook his head, giving Viktor a weak smile. “It’s fine. I just have a headache.”  
Viktor nodded and put down his chopsticks slowly. “Do you want to go home?”  
Yuuri seemed to hesitate, swallowing thickly before answering. “If you’re ok with that.”  
“Of course,” Viktor smiled, waving a waiter over with his free hand. “I’ll drink too much if I stay any longer. I don’t want to be a mess walking to your place.”  
After paying for their food, they left the restaurant and stepped out into the night air. It was a lot colder than when they had gone in, and Viktor had to bury his face in his scarf to keep his teeth from chattering. Yuuri mirrored him, pulling the scarf up to his nose and shuddering violently.  
“I’d offer you my jacket,” Viktor said lightly. “But I’m afraid I might get hypothermia if I do.”  
Yuuri chuckled and slid his arm around Viktor’s waist as they walked, Viktor in turn sliding his own around Yuuri’s shoulders.  
“Better?”  
“Much better,” Viktor agreed, planting a kiss on Yuuri’s hair.  
It was then that Yuuri paused, head whipping around to the right and arm slipping from Viktor’s waist. Viktor followed Yuuri’s line of sight, shoulders tensing involuntarily.  
“What’s wrong?”  
Yuuri swallowed tightly, eyes wide. “Can you… hear that?”  
Viktor listened. Very soon, he heard it too – a soft yowling sound, like an animal was in pain. It was coming from the alley by them. Yuuri looked back round at Viktor, whose expression hardened.  
“Stay here.”  
With that, he let go of Yuuri and took a few steps towards the alleyway. It was very dark – shadows ominously lining the walls and pavement; a black maw waiting to swallow him up. Viktor took a deep breath and took another step forward, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. He started when he felt a hand clasp his own before realising that it was just Yuuri, standing close by him. Viktor smiled at him and squeezed his hand before venturing further into the alley. The yowling sound seemed to be getting louder now, more and more distraught. It put Viktor on edge.  
“Hello?” Viktor called uncertainly, gripping Yuuri’s hand tighter as he stepped into the darkness, chills working their way down his spine. “Is someone– ”  
His breath caught in his throat as the light from the street was abruptly cut off – a shadow blocking out what meagre light the street lamps had provided. Viktor whipped around immediately, heart racing, to see someone standing at the entrance to the alley. They were wearing a dark jumper, the hood pulled up over their head and the sleeves rolled to their elbows, a pair of sunglasses and a black bandana concealing any distinguishable features of their face.  
There were a few seconds of tense silence before the person withdrew one hand from the pocket of their hoodie - and, with it, a sleek pistol. Viktor’s eyes widened and he unthinkingly pushed Yuuri behind him as the gun was raised.  
Pointed directly at Viktor.  
The assailant reached up and tugged down the bandana, just enough so Viktor could see their smirk as they laid their finger on the trigger.  
“Goodbye, asshole.”  
Time seemed to stop.  
The assailant steadied his hand, the smirk still evident on his face. Viktor could only stand frozen and wonder, in that brief moment of horror, how he’d got in that position in the first place. Barely ten minutes before he was in the restaurant with his boyfriend, enjoying food and telling a ridiculous story about eating live octopus. He had a fulfilling career, a best friend, a partner whom he loved dearly and a jeweller’s catalogue in the top drawer of his dresser. He was on the verge of finding out Eros’ identity, and he was genuinely happier than he had ever been.  
Now he was looking down the barrel of a gun, and he couldn’t do anything else but stare.  
“No!”  
Before Viktor could process what was happening Yuuri was shoving him out of the way, putting himself directly in the line of fire. Viktor was sent sprawling to the floor. The assailant let out a loud yelp and pulled the gun up the second he fired, missing Yuuri by mere inches. A few seconds of silence followed, the gunshot echoing in Viktor’s ears, before the assailant swore loudly and stuffed the gun into his pocket.  
And then, he was gone.  
“Yuuri!” Viktor choked out, scrambling to get up and over to him. “Are you ok?!”  
Yuuri’s eyes were blown wide, his breathing laboured, his whole body shaking from fright.  
“I – I’m fine,” he told Viktor, even though his voice trembled. He brought up his own hands and gathered Viktor’s face between them, tilting his head and checking for any injuries. “Are you ok? Please tell me you’re ok. Viktor - ”  
“I’m fine,” Viktor reassured, pressing his forehead to Yuuri’s own. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”  
Yuuri closed his eyes and let out a slow, shaky breath, and Viktor saw the tears beginning to form. “I – I thought he was going to kill you. I thought you were going to die.”  
“Yuuri, I’m ok,” Viktor told him softly in an attempt to calm him down. “I promise.”  
With that, he moved his hand down to Yuuri’s chin, tilting it up before kissing him on the lips gently. Yuuri kissed back immediately, moving his hands to wrap around Viktor’s neck whilst Viktor’s own slid to his waist. Though every logical instinct told Viktor to call up the station, to tell someone about what had just happened, he couldn’t bring himself to move away from Yuuri for a second. Not for the walk back to the house, not when Yuuri dragged him inside and crushed his lips to Viktor’s own, not when Yuuri pulled Viktor to his bed.  
Though perhaps it wasn’t the smartest of moves, Viktor couldn’t bring himself to regret it.  
Not when Yuuri was involved.  
 

* * *

  
   
Viktor awoke to the sound of buzzing.  
He let out a soft groan and cracked open one eye, momentarily confused by the darkness. His alarm clock was always far too bright, lighting up the room with its soft green glow - and, he remembered belatedly, woke him with the sound of the local radio station. It took him a few seconds to regain his thoughts and remember what happened last night. Sure enough, when he looked down, Yuuri was curled comfortably against his side.  
The sight alone made a small smile form on Viktor’s lips and he pressed a kiss to the other’s forehead, who responded with a groan and tightened the hold he had on Viktor’s waist.  
It was then that Viktor remembered his phone. He looked around, eyes finding his trousers in the space between the bed and the door, phone half hanging out his pocket and the lit screen showing a few missed calls. Though he was very reluctant to move away from Yuuri, he needed to answer it. He moved Yuuri’s arms gently away and shuffled out of the bed, wincing when the cold air hit his bare skin as he moved across the floor to his phone.  
As he picked it up, it rang again, and he wasted no time in answering it.  
“Hello?”  
“Viktor!” Chris’ exasperated voice came through the speakers. “I thought you’d never pick up!”  
“Sorry,” Viktor yawned, rubbing at his eyes and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was sleeping.”  
“That explains why you’re not here to pick me up.”  
Viktor swore when he saw the time, and winced. “Sorry. I should’ve set an alarm.”  
There were a few seconds silence, before Chris purred. “Viktor… Are you with Yuuri?”  
Viktor let out a soft noise, unsure of what to say. He looked around at Yuuri. The man was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the absence of warmth in the bed, looking younger and prettier than Viktor had ever seen him before.  
“You are!” Chris laughed, delighted. “My prediction was right!”  
Viktor hushed him as he moved around, collecting his clothes and slipping them on whilst cradling the phone to his ear. “Chris, something happened last night.”  
“Did you decide you didn’t like sushi?” Chris joked.  
“Someone tried to kill me.”  
It was evident that Chris was not expecting that, as he lapsed into a stunned silence. Then, he was spluttering. “Viktor – what?! Are you ok? Is Yuuri?”  
“We’re fine,” Viktor reassured him, finishing dressing and – with one last kiss to Yuuri’s head – walking out to the kitchen. “I’ll tell you when I get into work.”  
“By all means, don’t rush.”  
Viktor frowned at the salacious tone. “I’ll be ready to pick you up in an hour.”  
“Alright,” Chris replied, then added something quietly in French to someone else – no doubt his friend. “Have fun!”  
Before Viktor could respond, he had hung up. Viktor rolled his eyes and slipped his phone into his back pocket before taking a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. He debated about whether to wake Yuuri up, but seeing him sleep so peacefully made him less inclined to. It was better to leave him to sleep.  
Instead, whilst he was eating the banana, he wrote him a note:

  
   
   
Good morning my darling Yuuri!  
   
I’m very sorry to have to leave you, but I’m late for work... I decided to let you sleep, I couldn’t wake you. You look so cute!  
   
Text me when you wake up!  
   
Love,

Your darling Viktor x

 

  
   
Satisfied with the note, leaving one last sad sigh behind, he collected his jacket, scarf and shoes before exiting the house. After making sure it was firmly shut, he turned and began walking. It wouldn’t take him too long to walk back to his house, change clothes, then get the car to pick up Chris. The weather was warmer, too, which would make the walk slightly more bearable.  
It was then that Viktor happened to look up. Pure chance, just a glance about the area.  
And he froze.  
There, on the other side of the street, was Phichit Chulanont.  
He seemed to have spotted Viktor the same time that Viktor had spotted him, the two staring at each other for a few seconds with mirrored expressions of shock. Then Chulanont yelped and turned, sprinting down the street.  
Viktor flailed before running across the street and down the road after him, simultaneously pulling out his phone and typing up Chris’ number.  
“Chris!” He shouted as he continued running, determined not to let Chulanont out of his sight. “I’ve found Chulanont! I’m chasing him!”  
“What?!” Chris spluttered. “Where?!”  
Viktor gave him the name of the road and hung up as Chris went to call their colleagues at the station. Chulanont seemed to be in a huge panic, randomly choosing roads to run down in an attempt to try and throw Viktor off. However, he was not as fit as Viktor, and though he was fast the Russian was faster. He’d nearly caught up to the Thai before he took an abrupt left turn, making Viktor stumble before running after him.  
Within a minute, Chulanont realised his mistake. The alley was a dead end. He stopped a meter away from the wall, looking around desperately for a way to get out and to no avail.  
Viktor stopped a few meters behind him, panting hard.  
“Phichit Chulanont,” he wheezed, out of breath. “You are a suspect of the Eros’ investigation. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say can and will be used as evidence in court.”  
Chulanont froze at his words, before letting out an emaciated sigh. He raised his hands and turned to face Viktor with a wry smile on his face as the sound of police sirens in the distance became heard.  
“Ok, Nikiforov,” he said solemnly. “You’ve won.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three down, three to go! Exciting, isn't it?
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos and read the fanfic! It's greatly appreciated! Also, a big thank you to @MariaL for the theories each chapter! They're lots of fun to read, as well as interesting! Remember if any of you have questions, we'd be glad to answer (without giving away too much info. of course)!
> 
> Glad you enjoyed reading, and we hope to see you next week!
> 
> Bye for now!
> 
> ~ Charlie


	8. Accidents

Once upon a time, Agape would have followed Eros anywhere without the slightest hesitation. Though he often didn’t show it through his words and actions, he admired Eros greatly and trusted him even more. He was the leader, the mastermind, and his saviour. Someone he had owed his life to for many years, even before the gang had started. It was because of him that he was alive today, and that was something he could never repay.

But now everything had changed. He was trying so hard to trust Eros’ leadership, but with each new incident his faith was being tested. Ever since Viktor Nikiforov had come along, Eros had changed. Far from the cool and level-headed man Agape had known he’d gotten soft, pliant, and initially Agape had been worried about what that might mean for the future of the gang - and, more importantly, his family. By now, his concern had grown into full-blown fear. With Eros grown weak and indecisive, it made him more susceptible to mistakes. The prime example now being what had happened ten minutes before. 

He had been so sure that Nikiforov was going to be taken care of for good, and then…

For the first time, Agape was terrified that he would get caught.

His hands tightened in his hair to the point where it began to sting, but he took no notice. He was scared, there was no denying that. He was scared of what the future might hold – of what could happen if he got caught. He was scared for Ludus and Philautia, he was scared for everyone in the gang, no matter how little he thought of them. That was, except for one.

Each and every passing day, he became more suspicious of the man known as Pragma. Agape had been there when Eros had taken him under his wing like all the others, and he was one of the last people he would have expected to betray them. But considering his profession, anything was possible. In addition to which, he had been keeping a suspiciously low profile for the past few weeks. He had to be avoiding them purposefully. Agape was certain that he knew something the others didn’t, and nothing would sway his opinion on that matter, no matter what Eros said.

Yet, even Pragma couldn’t explain Eros’ current behaviour. Agape just didn’t get it. How could he say one thing and do another? It made no sense! Three years ago, Eros wouldn’t have hesitated to remove whatever obstacle lay in their path in order to carry on with their work, but for now he was content to leave it there – in the way and extremely dangerous. Just what was wrong with him?

He needed to speak to Eros.

And quickly.

With that thought in mind, he untucked his knees from where they were pulled up tightly to his chest. Slowly, he released the vice-like grip he had on his hair and let out a deep sigh, eyes trailing to he rucksack he’d discarded in a temper  near the opening of the alley he had randomly chosen after fleeing from the failed assassination attempt, half illuminated by the pale street lamps on the Main Street nearby. He swallowed, pulling up his hood again and the bandana and sliding on the sunglasses, before rising to his feet. He needed to see Eros, but not tonight. After the recent events, he feared he might lose his temper. He was too angry, too scared, and though he trusted Eros he didn’t want to be seen in that state. Normally, he would go to Ludus with all his troubles, but due to Ludus’ absence that was impossible…

No, he’d just have to go home and hope that everything seemed brighter in the morning.

 

* * *

 

 

“Phichit, I…”

Eros stopped. He stared wide eyed down at Agape, obviously not expecting him at the front door so early in the morning, also made evident by the mess his hair was in, the crooked way his glasses perched on his nose, and the unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely around his shoulders. And wait – where those – on his neck - ?!

Disgusted, Agape scoffed loudly and shoved past Eros and further into the house. Though over the night his anger had dissipated somewhat, it only flared up when he saw the state that Eros was in. Those bruises only meant one thing, and the thought made his stomach churn.

“You slept with him?!” He hissed, not bothering to conceal his distaste as he spun around to face the elder once the door was shut. “You can’t be fucking serious! After the episode last night you came back here and – and – ”

Eros’ eyes had darkened, and a large part of Agape’s mind registered the danger and told him to close his mouth and let the subject go. It was a clear warning from Eros to watch what he said, but he just couldn’t stop himself. The pressure from the last few months was reaching a head, the crippling fear and anxiety building until it all just seemed to explode.

“ _You came back here and fucked that pig?_ Are you stupid? We’re out there risking our asses for you and you don’t seem to even give a shit!” He paused briefly, but upon hearing no reply and meeting Eros’ blank face the anger roared up and he took a step forward, jabbing a finger in the others face.

“What’s so great about Nikiforov anyway?! What the hell made you think it was a good idea to date him after all those lies you made up? He’ll put you away when he finds out, he doesn’t fucking care –”

“Agape.”

A cold chill flew down Agape’s spine at the tone of his voice. He was angry, very angry. It was only then that he drew back, towards the kitchen, lowering his gaze to the floor unobtrusively. The anger drained out of him immediately and he leaned against the wall to keep himself upright.

Still avoiding his gaze, Agape continued, but in a much softer voice. “Eros –” he paused, then corrected himself. “Katsuki, listen to me for once in your damn life. I know I’m the shittiest person to offer advice, but you’re walking a fine line. You shouldn’t have let it get this far, especially since you’re not the only one who depends on this. Think of your family and Chulanont. I have to think of mine.”

Finally, he looked up at Eros. Though his jaw remained set his eyes told differently – they were softer, understanding and sincere. And suddenly, Agape understood.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Eros was quiet for a moment. It seemed as if he was looking straight through Agape. Then, his answer came, barely audible.

“Yes.”

Agape closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall with a dull thud. He wasn’t sure how to process this, how to feel about the whole situation. This was a whole new ball game entirely.

“This can’t go on,” he settled on, cracking open one eye to look at Eros.

“I know.”

“You need to end it before he learns the truth.”

“I know.”

Agape’s frown deepened. “Then why did you stop me from shooting the bastard last night?”

Eros looked back at him with confusion. “I didn’t expect you to be there.”

“What?” Agape stood up fully. “What the hell are you talking about? Philia gave me the gun and said you said to shoot him!”

Agape’s breath caught at Eros’ expression.

“No – I withdrew the order!”

“What?!”

Eros pushed away from the door to the kitchen, Agape following him nervously, taking a seat at the table opposite him.

“Last night,” Eros said, voice wavering. “Philia went to Pragma to collect the gun, but I phoned Pragma to tell Philia when he got there that I had withdrawn –”

Agape and Eros’ stared at each other across the table, realisation slowly dawning upon them. Agape’s eyebrows furrowed and his teeth clenched together.

“And what if Pragma didn’t tell him?”

There were a few beats of awful silence, before Agape slammed his hands down on the table. “I fucking knew it!”

“I had a feeling all along,” Eros said, eyes narrowing. “Things didn’t seem to add up with him, but I couldn’t say for certain until I knew.”

“It was all him then,” Agape said. “I bet he was the cause behind Ludus hiding!”

Agape noticed the way that Eros avoided his gaze, and dread began to pool in his stomach.

“What?”

“Nikiforov has Ludus,” Eros said quietly.

Agape felt sick. His stomach churned and a hysteric feeling began to well up inside him, threatening to burst. Now there was no doubt about it.

“I’m going to fucking murder Pragma,” he hissed through his teeth, standing up with his curls tightening almost painfully into fists. “This is all his fault. He set us all up!”

Eros pushed up his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, inhaling sharply. “Philia still hasn’t come back from his place.”

Agape’s eyes widened and he quickly withdrew his phone, looking to see if he had any messages. Eros copied his movements, Agape looking up quickly when he gasped.

“What’s wrong?!”

With trembling fingers, Eros handed him the phone, before slumping down on his chair and burying his face in his hands. Agape scrolled up, heart beating frantically as he read the hurried messages.

 

 

From: **Phichit Chulanont** [09:25]

 

NIKFORV FOUND NE

RUNNIG AWAY

HELP

NEARLU CUOGH ME

DETROUNG PHONE HE WONT FIND MESGES

RUN

 

 

Agape let the phone drop to the table in horror. He’d got Philia. He’d caught half of them already. Philautia, Ludus and Philia were already under custody; Nikiforov was slowly making his way up the chain of command.

Which, if Agape were to guess, meant he was next.

 

* * *

 

Viktor tapped a finger to his lips, lost deep in thought as he went over the notes he had taken on his most recent capture.

The capture of Chulanont had gone relatively smoothly, and his behaviour mirrored Ludus and Philautia’s in the fact that he submitted so easily, but, as Chris had put it, ‘shut up like a clam’. He wouldn’t say anything about the rest of Eros’ gang, except to state his status within it.

Philia.

Phichit Chulanont was Philia.

That meant he knew for sure that he had captured Philautia and Philia, but Altin’s status was still unconfirmed and unknown even though he’d been in holding for a month now. Still, it made him wonder. Why was Chulanont called Philia in the first place? Was it his relation to Eros or some other reason? It fascinated Viktor, and frustrated him even more knowing that he couldn’t find out unless he got a direct confession.

However, what confused him the most was the sudden appearance of Philia. He’d been keeping such a low profile that Viktor was almost certain he’d left the country somehow and had escaped him. But then there he was, by pure chance, on the other side of the street staring at Viktor with horror written across his face.

It just didn’t add up.

There wasn’t much he could do until Emil got back to him. As the security camera operator, Viktor had asked him to look through all footage to determine why Phichit was there in the first place, as it had seemed so coincidental. Emil had understood completely, and for the past two weeks since Philia’s capture he’d been going through every single camera in the entirety of the city. It was a tiring and laborious job, and Viktor wondered how he could do that each and every day.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, idly watching the television screen across the office. Chris had called off sick for the past few days due to a bug, and so there wasn’t much to do other than go over case files and notes, which soon became boring. Mila often came to visit, and when he and Yuuri were free they’d go out for lunch and occasionally dinner. Yuuri had been giving him skating lessons too, and he was getting much better every time he set foot on the ice. He could easily see how Yuuri had built a career out of it.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a message, and he scrambled to pick it up.

 

 

From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [12:03]

 

On my break

These kids wear me out

 

 

Viktor chuckled and typed a message back.

 

 

From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [12:04]

 

I can wear you out more (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

 

 

From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [12:05]

 

Viktor!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Viktor laughed aloud, imaging Yuuri flushing scarlet and shielding his phone from any possible onlookers as he quickly typed.

 

 

From: **Yuuri Katsuki** [12:06]

 

There are children here!

You’ll ruin their innocence

 

 

Viktor grinned and went to type something back, before his fingers paused, hovering over the keyboard. The words ‘children’ and ‘innocence’ stood out to him like they were written in multicoloured text. Altin had seemed too rough to fit the description of Agape, but if that was under the consideration that Agape was supposed to mean innocence, could that make Altin Ludus?

Yes. Maybe. He pressed his lips together.

The question was, who was Agape?

There were far too many young teenagers and children in the city for him to interview every single one. He needed more evidence, there had to be something he was missing.

His mind drifted back to when he had first seen Ludus, in that little shop which sold a very delicious brand of pirozhki. Viktor really would have to go back there, Chris had been overjoyed with the snacks…

Suddenly, the boy behind the counter jumped into his mind.

Though his attitude and expression suggested otherwise, he was arguably the epitome of innocence. Bright blond hair, a rounded face, a very beautiful shade of green in his eyes, and not to mention the fact he was relatively short… He had seemed on very friendly terms with Altin had he not?

It seemed he had a suspect.

 

 

From: **Viktor Nikiforov** [12:10]

 

YUURI YOU’RE A GENIUS <3 <3 <3

 

 

With that, he shot up out of his chair and hurriedly threw the papers into the thick file. He opened the door to the office so fast that he ran straight into unsuspecting Georgi Popovich – who yelped as Viktor barrelled into him.

“Nikiforov!” He huffed, picking up the loose pieces of paper off of the floor that Viktor had knocked down.

“Georgi!” Viktor put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a wide smile. “Are you free?”

“Yes,” Georgi said slowly, looking at Viktor suspiciously as though he were anticipating something. “I’m about to go on my lunch break.”

“Perfect!” Viktor cheered, grabbing him by the arm and towing him towards the front entrance. “You’re coming with me!”

“Where?!” Georgi said, startled at the abruptness. Viktor turned his head towards him, the grin still very much present.

“I know who Agape is.”

 

* * *

 

 

“ When you said you knew who Agape was, I thought you meant you were sure,” Georgi grumbled, huddled in on himself against the cold in the passenger side of the police vehicle.

Viktor sat on the other side practically vibrating with excitement as he drove. The more he thought about the possibility the more likely it seemed to become, and as they neared the shop Viktor was almost certain.

“Everything points towards the child being Agape,” Viktor told him, unfazed. “I know Altin’s one – but he seems too rough to be Agape, too young to be Pragma, and too awkward to be Eros. Since we have Philia and Philautia, that would make him Ludus, but we need to be sure. Why didn’t I think of it before!”

Georgi looked at him utterly bemused. “How are you going to find out he’s Ludus from Agape? I thought you put in the file that they wouldn’t say anything on the others?”

“You read the file?”

“I’m Yakov’s admin, I have to,” Georgi told him, sounding exasperated. “That doesn’t answer my question, though.”

“I have a plan in mind.” Viktor’s lips twitched into a smile. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Georgi shook his head with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

 

Very soon, they arrived outside of the shop. It looked exactly the same as Viktor remembered, even down to the peeling sign out the front advertising coffee which had first caught Chris’ eyes.

Georgi was not as impressed, his eyes narrowing in distaste as he got out of the car, shuddering against the cold. He’d barely had time to grab his coat as Viktor pulled him out of the door and into the car, and so was suffering much more under the chilled January weather.

“This is the place?” He asked as he walked with Viktor up to the front steps, sighing lowly when Viktor nodded in affirmation.

“There’s a young boy and an elderly man working here, so there shouldn’t be too much hassle.”

“Good.”

With that, they entered the shop. Viktor’s eyes went to the counter immediately and, sure enough, met the piercing green gaze of the boy behind it, in exactly the same position as Viktor had last seen him with his thumb hovering above the screen of his phone. He gave time to let Georgi look around and assess the shop, before he went up to the counter.

In his hurry to leave, he hadn’t had the chance to look up the name of the owner of the shop, and that worked against him now.

“Excuse me?” Viktor said, addressing the boy, who scowled menacingly.

“Yeah?”

“A suspect of an investigation has been frequently visiting this shop. We would like for you to come with us so that we can discuss it some more.”

Viktor was sure he saw a flash of fear in the boy’s eyes, but before he could say anything else the elderly man entered the shop floor from out the back.

“Yurotchka?”

All three of them looked up, the boy’s – who Viktor was now certain was named Yuri – expression hardening as he rose to his feet.

“It’s ok, Grandpa,” he told the man in Russian.

“What’s happening?” The man responded in the same language and looked between Viktor and Georgi, eyes narrowing. “Are you taking my grandson away?”

Viktor startled when Georgi answered in flawless Russian. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, considering Georgi’s name, but nonetheless it still interested him to hear him speak in another language. “He’s the suspect of an investigation. He’ll be returned if found innocent.”

The man looked increasingly angry, and for the first time Viktor was glad he’d brought the much more experienced Georgi along.

“I want to see a lawyer!” He barked. “I refuse to let you take him!”

Georgi went to respond again, when Yuri held up a hand.

“Grandpa, please,” he said, eyes pleading. “I’ll go with them and prove that I’m innocent. I’ll be back soon.”

The man looked torn as Yuri gave him a thin-lipped smile, before following Viktor out of the shop to leave Georgi to talk to him briefly. As soon as they were outside, Yuri whirled around to face Viktor and jabbed a finger in his face.

“There’d better be a good reason why you’re taking me,” he hissed. “My Grandpa doesn’t need anymore stress.”

The personality switch was unsurprising considering Viktor had had to face this side of him before, and he stared back calmly.

“We suspect you of being Agape.”

He watched Yuri’s expression closely, noting the way his pupils constricted and the hand by his side clenched into a fist. He seemed to debate his words for a few seconds before grimacing.

“Fine. Do whatever you damn want, I don’t care as long as it doesn’t affect my Grandpa.”

* * *

 

 

“What are you up to Nikiforov?” Georgi glanced at Viktor, who was staring at the two monitors with his eyes narrowed. In one sat Otabek Altin, seated in one of the interview rooms and staring blankly at the wall. In the other sat Yuri Plisetsky – he’d reluctantly given his name as he was sat in the back of the police car – drumming his fingers impatiently on the table with his chin propped up on his hand, a permanent scowl on his face. The contrast between the two was fascinating.

“We’re going to make them give a direct confession,” Viktor said simply, and Georgi turned to him.

“How?”

Viktor smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Through clever reverse psychology. Just make sure you note everything down.”

Georgi agreed as Viktor moved towards the interview room that housed Otabek Altin, slipping in the door and shutting it firmly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Altin,” Viktor greeted, remembering what Chris usually did in interviews. Otabek glanced up at him, his expression unwavering as Viktor sat opposite him and switched on the voice box.

“I’m sorry we’ve had you in holding for so long, but we’ve finally come to a conclusion.”

“Have you?” Otabek’s voice was far from amused and was just as dull as his expression. It sounded disbelieving.

“Indeed.” Viktor sat back in his chair and kept his steady eye contact as he laced his fingers together. Now was his chance. He had one shot at this and if he messed it up then he’d lose his chance to get anything out of Altin at all. He just hoped to God his hunch was right.

“Mr. Altin,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “We know for a fact you’re part of the Eros gang. Your accomplice Yuri Plisetsky, or Agape, has been caught. We suspect you of being Ludus. Is this correct?”

It was a shot in the dark. There was every chance that he had this completely wrong – every chance that Yuri Plisetsky was innocent as well as Otabek Altin. The fault may cost him his newfound fame and even his career if any decided to pursue a legal firm, but Viktor had high hopes. His gut instincts had never let him down before, so why should they now?

And it was there, as he was staring at Altin and Altin was staring back, that the truth was revealed.

Altin’s resolve shattered.

His expression softened and he inhaled sharply, bringing up a hand and running it through his hair. Then, he covered his face with both hands, burying in them and sighing.

“… Alright.” After a few seconds he sat back up again, expression unreadable. “You’ve won, Nikiforov. I am Ludus.”

Excitement flared up inside Viktor. His plan had worked. His plan with so many flaws had worked, and he could barely believe it. Through one simple interview and one well educated guess, he had caught both Ludus and Agape, and for a moment he couldn’t believe it was true.

He had four of them, and he could say that with certainty.

Viktor couldn’t keep the wide smile off of his face as he stood up, dusting off his clothes. “Thank you, Mr. Altin. You have now confirmed my suspicions that Yuri Plisetsky is Agape.”

Viktor hesitated when he saw the expression on his face. The stoic Otabek Altin looked absolutely mortified. His eyes were wide, hands frozen in place at realisation of what he had just accidentally done. An accidental betrayal.

Georgi’s jaw had gone slack as Viktor left the interview room, staring at Viktor like he had just sprouted three extra heads.

“I… I can’t believe it,” Georgi said, bewildered. “I can’t believe it was that easy…”

“It was a gamble,” Viktor admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But now we know for sure that Altin is Ludus and Plisetsky is Agape. That makes four of them, with only Pragma and Eros left.”

Georgi shook his head slowly, before standing up from the chair. “That means we can put them in permanent holding until the trial like Leroy and Chulanont.”

Viktor nodded. “Indeed it does.”

After a few short phone calls, a number of police officers arrived to take Plisetsky and Altin back to their own holding cells. As they left the room, Yuri was thrashing around and kicking out, seemingly confused and scared.

“I’m innocent, damn it!” He yelled, pulling at the handcuffs behind his back. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Mr. Altin confirmed to us that you were Agape,” Viktor told him as he passed, and all of a sudden Yuri stopped thrashing. His head whipped around to Altin who stood a few paces back, staring at the floor as pale as a sheet.

“You did _what?!”_ Plisetsky screeched, and before anyone could stop him he charged at the other teenager and knocked him to the floor. “You traitor! You fucking traitor! You’re no friend of mine you bastard!”

After some more scuffling, Yuri was pinned to the floor, thrashing even more violently than before as Altin was put back on his feet with a bloodied lip and a black eye already beginning to form. Guilt curled in Viktor’s chest suddenly as he watched the two and he frowned. What was he feeling guilt for? These two were renowned criminals who had robbed people of millions – so why should he feel guilty?

But, as he watched the two being taken away again, he was reminded of how small they were compared to the other officers. Just two teenagers surrounded by burly men, one of them angry beyond reason and the other staring silently at the floor. What had made them turn to this life in the first place…?

And with a dry throat, Viktor watched as a single tear trailed down Altin’s cheek. He disappeared down another corridor, following Plisetsky, who was still screaming insults at him.

“Viktor?”

The Russian startled at Georgi’s hand on his shoulder, and he looked round at him to see Georgi staring at him with concern. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine” Viktor tried to say, but the dryness in his throat prevented him from doing so, and he had to swallow a few times before answering. “I’m fine. Just relieved.”

Georgi looked unconvinced, but before he could respond, the door to the interview rooms was burst open by none other than a panting Emil Nekola.

“Nikiforov!” He wheezed, an open laptop pressed to his chest, which he then waved around. “We’ve found Pragma!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then there were two left...  
> So, we now know all the identities except one - just who is Pragma and what does he do? Why is he doing this? All will be revealed very soon, don't worry! I'm sorry to leave it on such a cliff hanger, but you'll just have to wait until next Monday ;)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos and read it! It's greatly appreciated! It's interesting to see how your theories are also beginning to build up too. Dynamic and I are very excited for the 'big reveal' of who Pragma is. 
> 
> Well then, until next week!
> 
> \- Charlie


	9. Betrayal

“We’ve found Pragma!”  
The words hung heavily in the air, followed by a prolonged pause as Georgi and Viktor stared at Emil in stunned silence.  
“What?” Georgi managed to say, disbelief clear in his voice. Viktor was inclined to agree.  
Emil took a moment to properly catch his breath, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He looked both excited and terrified and Viktor was desperate to find out why - and, more importantly, how he’d supposedly found Pragma. Three criminals in one day seemed too impossible.  
Eventually, he dragged his sleeve across his forehead and came over to the two of them, dropping into one of the office chairs by the monitors. He placed his laptop in front of him and gestured for them to come closer, to which they did, looking over his shoulder at the file that was open.  
“You said for me to look through the security footage, right?” Emil said anxiously, fingers flying across the keyboard. “I did. And I found something.”  
With those words, he hesitated before bringing up a video. It was a picture of a street, from the time stated in the corner very late at night, with only the light from the nearby houses giving some visibility. When Emil pressed play, it was a few seconds before they saw anything more than darkness.  
Then, the shadows began to move, running along the wall opposite until the lights grew brighter and a figure emerged. They looked around carefully before staring straight into the security camera. There was a few seconds pause before they looked away again to check their watch, before leaning against the wall in a tense position. It was too dark to make out their face.  
“Why did they look at the camera?” Viktor asked with a frown, only to be hushed by Georgi. Still, he wondered. It just didn’t seem to make sense unless he assumed the cameras were off…  
Emil fast forwarded nearly twenty minutes before hitting play again, just as another figure appeared on the screen. He was much less careful than the other, not bothered by the light illuminating the outlines of his face. The other perked up immediately as soon as they saw him and waved him over. The newcomer seemed to hesitate, before slowly going over to the one by the wall. They started talking, the first waving his hands around and gesturing to a black rucksack on his back, the second watching him with a posture that said he was incredibly uncertain. The talking went on for a few more minutes, before the second nodded, holding out a hand. The first took the rucksack off and gave it to the second, gesturing some more in what Viktor could decipher as a thank you. A few seconds after that, the first slunk back into the shadows, the faint outline disappearing after a few moments as he left the monitor’s sight range.  
The second stayed where he was, looking down at the rucksack in his hands for a few minutes, before swinging it over his shoulder. He looked around briefly before going back the way he came.

Emil stopped the video. “There!” He said proudly, looking up at both Georgi and Viktor.  
“I’ll admit that that’s suspicious,” Georgi said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “But suspicion doesn’t prove anything.”  
It was then that Emil grinned, winking at Georgi mysteriously. “I’m not finished yet!”  
With that, he brought up another screen on his laptop. On the screen were two still frames from the security footage, both of them the brief times when the duo had looked unsuspectingly at the cameras.  
“It was difficult, but I managed to get a face recognition on the both of them.”  
“And who are they?” Viktor asked, leaning forward more to give a better look.  
“Well.” Emil brought up yet another screen and Viktor gasped. It was a zoomed in picture of the first person, and even pixelated Viktor would be able to make out that face anywhere.  
“Chulanont?”  
Emil nodded excitedly. “Yep! But it was the second person that caught our attention.”  
He brought up another screen, this time zoomed in on the second person. It was a man of around Chulanont’s age with dark hair and thick eyebrows. His gaze was harsh and piercing and gave Viktor the impression that he wasn’t the most sociable. In fact, he looked a little familiar...  
“Who’s that?”  
Emil brought up another screen, this time a Wikipedia page. The man from the security footage glared at them from a photo with a few paragraphs of information underneath.  
“His name is Seung-Gil Lee,” Emil said, tapping on the screen where his name was. “He’s twenty years old, born in the Republic of Korea, and works – ”  
“Under Celestino Cialdini!” Viktor finished, eyes widening in recognition. “I’ve seen him before, when we went to the media firm to get Chulanont!”  
Now he remembered. He was one of Chulanont’s colleagues, a journalist who had passed through the ground floor as they were waiting. He had also been less than pleased to see them, Viktor recalled.  
“Why was he meeting with Chulanont?”  
“That’s a very good question!” Emil replied, turning in the chair to face both Viktor and Georgi, resting his hands on his knees. “You two were busy with Agape and Ludus, so I got permission from Yakov to go and arrest him at work.”  
“You got him?” Georgi asked quickly.  
“We have got him, but we didn’t get him from Celestino.” Emil held up a hand to stop anymore questions. “Listen. The junior officers went there but couldn’t find anything. Celestino wasn’t happy at all and they even had to get Yakov on the phone to explain. Mila did some rooting around and found his address and so we went straight there.”  
He turned back around in the chair and brought up the final tabs on the laptop. “He had taken a few days off sick and was at home with his dog. We got a warrant to search through the apartment, found the rucksack and put him under arrest. He’s in one of the holding cells right now.”  
“Why do you suspect him of being Pragma?” Viktor questioned, and Emil leaned back to show them the computer screen. In the photo was a variety of documents and a passport, as well as a few cards with the signature of Eros on and a number of letters. The last thing there was a pistol, the barrel glinting coldly under the lights.  
“These were in that rucksack Chulanont gave to him,” Emil said, finally shutting the tabs down and closing his laptop. “The letters are addressed to Pragma, the documents and the passport are fake and has Lee’s face on them. Everything points to him being Pragma. There’s no doubt about it.”  
Viktor was stunned. Emil was right, everything did point to Lee being Pragma, but it was just so strange how they’d got caught… something about it didn’t sit right with him.  
“He could be the person who tried to kill you,” Emil continued, looking at Viktor. “He seems the right height and build.”  
Viktor shook his head. “No. I already know who that was.”  
They both looked shocked. “You do?”  
“It was Plisetsky,” Viktor said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I recognised his voice.”  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Georgi spluttered. “You could have pressed more charges.”  
“What’s the point?” Viktor smiled weakly, guilt curling in his chest yet again. “He’s going to prison after the trial anyway. That’s enough punishment.”  
He quickly changed the subject, the weight of guilt in his chest becoming uncomfortable. “Have you questioned him and Chulanont?”  
Emil nodded slowly, unsure of the abrupt subject change. “Chulanont won’t say a word, but Lee keeps protesting that he’s innocent.”  
Viktor paused.  
“He’s what?”  
The other blinked at him, a small frown creasing his features. “He’s… saying he’s innocent?”  
“Nikiforov?” Georgi asked uncertainly, noticing how Viktor’s expression darkened.  
“Get Chris here,” Viktor told them both, making his way towards the door back out into the corridor. “I want him to interview Lee with me.”

 

* * *

  
  
Chris looked awful.  
Aside from being annoyed at the demand that he come back to work, his appearance was far from the salacious and charming Christophe that Viktor had come to know. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was paler, hair a mess and clothes far from the casually formal ones he usually wore to work. He seemed to sneeze every few minutes too, and even brought a whole box of tissues with him that he clutched to his chest while they spoke.  
“Viktor,” he said as soon as he got up the steps to reach the grinning face of his colleague. “I love you, but your timing is awful.”  
“Nice to see you too.” He gave Chris a tight hug before leading him through the complex of the police station, ignoring the bewildered looks of his and Chris’ colleagues as they wandered through. “Did Georgi tell you everything?”  
“Yeah,” Chris replied as they reached the interview rooms, voice nasal. “He explained it all. But if he’s Pragma, then why am I here?”  
Georgi and Emil looked up as they reached the door - along with Yakov. Viktor hid his surprise by nodding at each of them before coming inside, Chris trailing behind and sitting down on the edge of one of the tables.  
“You’re here,” he told Chris at last, “because you’re the only one who would understand why I don’t think Lee is Pragma.”  
A stunned silence overtook the room.  
“What?” Yakov said gruffly, drumming his fingers on the table. “What do you mean, Nikiforov?”  
“Sir.” Viktor turned to him. “I think he was set up by Chulanont. I’ll explain everything once Chris and I have interviewed him.”  
He nodded at Chris, who stood up again and followed him through the doors into one of the interview rooms. At the table in the middle, looking incredibly irritated, was their current suspect - Seung-Gil Lee. He looked up as the two detectives entered the room, eyebrows furrowing even further and his hands curling into two tight fists.  
“Hello, Mr. Lee,” Viktor greeted, taking a seat opposite with Chris doing the same. He reached over and turned the voice box on. “My name is Detective Nikiforov and this is Detective Giacometti. We will be interviewing you today.”  
Lee didn’t say a word. Instead, he tapped his fingers against his arm, his gaze darkening significantly.  
“We suspect you of being Pragma in the Eros investigation,” Viktor continued, acting unfazed. “Is there anything you’d like to tell us?”  
The short silence that followed had Viktor doubting himself, until the Korean began to speak.  
“I don’t know anything,” he growled, voice low and threatening.  
Viktor leaned forward. “In the rucksack given to you by Phichit Chulanont on January seventh, there were fake documents, a fake passport, letters, a series of cards and a gun. Can you explain these?”  
“No,” Lee answered in the same tone. “I took it from Phichit because he asked me to keep it for him for a few days. I don’t know what’s in there and I don’t really care.”  
Chris hummed. “But surely you know that Mr. Chulanont is a wanted criminal, with full convictions of being Philia? Why did you do it?”  
Lee let out a long breath, averting his eyes away from the two detectives. “I owed him a favour for helping me with my work and getting me a job in the media. I don’t care what he did, I owed him, and so I agreed to help him out. Is that good enough?”  
“So you admit to being guilty?” Chris raised a brow.  
The question was a prompt for a reaction, and Viktor almost smiled at how quickly Chris had caught on. Lee’s reply gave Viktor his final answer on the matter.  
“I’m not guilty!” He barked. “I don’t have anything to do with this! I’m just a journalist!”  
Chris and Viktor glanced at each other, before in unison they both stood up.  
Viktor nodded to him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”  
“What was that about?” Georgi asked, bemused, as Viktor and Chris exited the interview room. Viktor looked at Chris.  
“He’s not Pragma,” answered the Swiss immediately. “He can’t be.”  
“But how? Why?” Emil argued, looking from his laptop to the monitor. “Everything points in his direction!”  
“That’s exactly it.”  
Viktor looked from Georgi, to Emil, to Yakov, who was regarding Viktor and Chris with interest. Chris resumed his perch on the table whilst Viktor stood, folding his arms.  
“His behaviour is abnormal compared to the others.” Viktor inclined his head in the direction of Lee. “He’s defending himself. None of the others did when they realised we knew, not even Leroy. Furthermore,” he continued. “This was ridiculously easy. As you said, everything points in his direction. Eros wouldn’t be so careless as to just put things in a bag and give them to him if he were Pragma. He’s too much of a perfectionist.”  
“But it was Chulanont who gave it to him,” Yakov pressed, sounding intrigued. “How do you explain that?”  
Viktor gave him a soft smile. “I can’t explain that, but I have one more piece of evidence.”  
He looked at Emil. “Emil, please get up Lee’s Wikipedia page again.”  
Confused, Emil did as Viktor asked, and brought it up. Viktor walked over and scrolled down, before gesturing. “There. It’s all about him, where he lived, what he did, his early childhood.”  
“All of the past information on the others were deleted,” Georgi said, voice alight with realisation. “His is all there.”  
“Exactly.” Viktor gave Emil an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but Lee’s not Pragma. He’s been set up.”  
“But by who?” Emil asked, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Surely not Chulanont?”  
“It’s a possibility…” Viktor mused, tapping a finger against his lips. “But Chulanont won’t say anything, so there’s no point asking him. However…” his eyes narrowed as he stared at the monitor where Lee was. “If I had to guess, I would say that the real Pragma tried to set him up too.”  
“There’s always the possibility that this was purposefully done to take Lee off the radar,” Chris said, pausing to sneeze before continuing. “I think we should keep him in holding until we’re sure.”  
There was a collective nodding of heads in the room, and Viktor had to agree himself.  
“Alright, we’ll keep him in holding. I just hope we find out the truth soon.”

 

* * *

  
  
“Any idea what you’re going to do tomorrow?” Chris asked, spread out like a cat across Viktor’s desk as per usual.  
Viktor looked up from the mound of paperwork that was in front of him. “For Valentine’s Day? Yes.”  
Chris noticed his deceptive grin and rolled over, placing his hand on his chin and raising an eyebrow at Viktor. “Care to elaborate?”  
“Well,” Viktor said, leaning back and pushing his chair away from the stack. “I already got you a present if that’s what you’re asking.”  
“You shouldn’t have,” Chris smiled, and Viktor could see that despite the teasing words he was honestly flattered. “Is it something fun?”  
“I’m not sure if I want to hear your definition of fun,” Viktor laughed. “But you’ll like it. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.”  
Chris faked a pout and instead prodded Viktor’s shoulder. “What about you and Yuuri? Please tell me you’re doing something – it’s the day of lovers after all.”  
“Of course,” Viktor said, lacing his fingers together and leaning back so that he was looking up at the ceiling. “Since we went out for dinner on our birthdays, Yuuri wanted to stay home and watch movies.”  
“That’s so sweet,” Chris purred, a dreamy expression crossing his face. “And romantic! I might ask my friend if we can do that instead of going out for dinner.”  
Viktor shook his head. “It’s your birthday. You could always watch movies another night.”  
Chris considered it, tapping his fingers against his chin. “I suppose…” His eyes fixed on Viktor again, a smile coming to his lips. “What about presents for Yuuri?”  
He noticed how the Russian paused and tilted his head in interest. “Viktor?”  
Viktor sat up suddenly and looked at Chris properly, an unreadable expression on his face. “I… did get him a present but I’m worried.”  
Chris laughed. “Come now, Viktor, it can’t be that bad! Why are you so worried?”  
Viktor hesitated for a little while longer before he reached down and opened his desk drawer. He rummaged around in it for a moment before bringing out a black velvet box. Chris’ eyes widened in recognition.  
“Viktor is that - ?”  
“Yes.” Viktor smiled at him, before opening the box and showing Chris the band inside. “I wanted to surprise him but I’m not sure if it’s too early.”  
Chris counted on his fingers before sighing. “Five months. You’ve known each other five months. That… is a little soon.”  
Viktor seemed to deflate, but Chris held up a hand. “But I’m sure if you wait a little while longer, and if you’re certain that he’s the one…then there shouldn’t be a problem.”  
A grin rose to both their lips at the same time and Chris ruffled the silver strands of Viktor’s hair. “My little Viktor is growing up.”  
Viktor snorted and swatted Chris’ hand away, replacing the box safely inside his drawer again.  
“I’m not sure how we can make it work since I’m so busy, but I’m sure if he feels the same way I do about him, we can get through it.”  
Chris nodded in understanding, then gave Viktor a teasing smile. “Now all you’ve got to hope is that he says yes!”  
The Russian laughed and moved forward in his chair, looking over the paperwork once more. He glanced up at Chris just before he settled down again.  
“If this does go ahead…” he exhaled shakily. “Would you be my best man?”  
Chris froze, his eyes widening at the proposition. There was a few seconds silence, before a soft smile graced the Swiss’ lips.  
“Of course. I’m your best friend. I wouldn’t miss being it for the world.”

 

* * *

  
  
Viktor’s hand curled in Yuuri’s hair, stroking the soft strands with a gentleness that he only seemed to reserve for his boyfriend. He was terrified of hurting him, as if he were made of fragile porcelain, and so every touch became a caress. Yuuri had assured him countless times that he wasn’t made of china, but didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to like the fact that Viktor treated him so carefully, like he was the most precious thing in the world.  
Yuuri was pliant against his side, breathing steadily, eyes closed. He’d taken his glasses off a while ago so that he could nestle more comfortably against Viktor’s side, listening rather than watching the movie that was playing in the background. It was one of Viktor’s favourites – Anastasia – and since the Russian had seen it so many times he was content with playing with Yuuri’s hair instead.  
A while later Yuuri pushed himself up slowly and moved to pluck his can of coke off the coffee table, quickly replacing it by the empty pizza box and tucking the blanket more comfortably around them. After a few failed attempts at trying to get comfortable again, Viktor chuckled and pushed for Yuuri to sit up. He leaned back and stretched himself out along the sofa, gesturing for Yuuri to lie on top of him; which he did, covering them both with the thick blanket.  
“Better?” Viktor asked, propping a pillow behind his head. Yuuri hummed in agreement, closing his eyes and shifting so he lay with his ear against Viktor’s heart.  
“Thank you for today,” he murmured, searching out Viktor’s hand and lacing their fingers together with a squeeze. “It’s nice to spend some time together, you’ve been so busy with work.”  
Viktor smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”  
Yuuri laughed, raising his head to look at Viktor. “Neglecting me? No, you’ve been skipping out on our skating lessons. Unacceptable, _Vitya_.”  
Viktor swallowed thickly. He’d told Yuuri once that ‘Vitya’ was a variation of his name in Russian that was the closest thing to a nickname to him, and Yuuri had found out soon enough that Viktor loved being called by it. However he only reserved it for intimate times such as this, when he was purposefully trying to do something. “I’m sorry, my love. Can you ever forgive me?”  
Yuuri hummed again, mischief dancing in his eyes. “I don’t know. Can I?”  
Viktor reached up and held Yuuri’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes half-lidded and voice a mere purr. “I’m sure there’s some way to make it up to you.”  
A vivid blush spread across Yuuri’s cheeks, and Viktor almost felt his heart jump.  
“Uh – I – I guess there’s – um…” Yuuri tried to say, before shutting his mouth with an audible clop. Viktor laughed and leaned forward, closing the gap between them with a kiss. Yuuri’s hands flew to his hair immediately, looping gracefully around his neck, Viktor’s hands settling on the small of his back. Viktor could feel his temperature rising as the kiss got messier and more desperate, and he let out a whine as he slid his hands under Yuuri’s shirt to grasp his hips tighter. After Yuuri let out a soft noise which Viktor took as permission, he attempted to flip Yuuri over so that things could go further.  
However, he misjudged the space between him and the edge of the sofa.  
Yuuri let out a yelp as he slipped off the edge of it, Viktor realising too late and reaching out to try and grab him. The momentum only made him follow Yuuri off the couch and onto the floor, cracking their foreheads together.  
Viktor let out a pained groan and sat up, rubbing his stinging forehead as Yuuri clutched his own. After some of the pain had melted away he looked down at Yuuri to make sure he was alright, realising belatedly that he was essentially straddling the man’s thighs. They seemed to be making a habit of ending up in odd positions.  
“You ok?” He asked, voice concerned, as he removed Yuuri’s hand from his forehead and checked for any sort of bleeding. A small bruise was beginning to blossom in the middle of Yuuri’s temple and he winced as Viktor’s fingertips brushed over it before staring Viktor straight in the eye.  
Almost in sync, the two of them burst into loud peals of laughter.  
“Well, I’ve learnt my lesson,” Viktor grinned, wincing as the pain in his forehead spiked. “I’ll never be distracted by my hot boyfriend on the sofa ever again.”  
Yuuri snorted and lightly smacked Viktor’s arm, smiling up at him. Viktor paused as he looked back down. Yuuri was so beautiful, even with his eyes bright with tears from a mixture of pain and laughter and a bruise forming on his forehead. He was perfect in every way, and Viktor couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather share his life with.  
“Shall we continue?” Yuuri offered with a smile, looping his hands behind Viktor’s head again and pulling him down for a kiss.  
“You know I’d never say no,” Viktor replied as he claimed Yuuri’s lips once more.

 

* * *

  
  
It was a week later that Georgi came to visit the Eros Investigation office. He’d taken a huge interest in the case after he’d assisted with Plisetsky, Altin and Lee, even if the latter had turned out to be a set up, and Mila had told Viktor in a mutter that Georgi wasn’t the only one they had influenced. Many of the other officers were conducting searches in their spare time to try and help the case, and even the junior officers were trying to work their way up to get a glimpse into it. The capture of four of the members of Eros’ gang – last year a feat thought impossible – had given them newfound hope and inspiration. If Nikiforov could do it after only being in the force for a few months, then what was stopping them?  
Viktor was glad that he had inspired people and that the case was steadily gaining popularity, but he still favoured the quiet office, where it was just he and Chris working with their now full folder of notes. It was peaceful and had become a routine, like taking Yuuri for coffee dates and picking up Chris before work. Viktor had settled into it nicely, and he absolutely loved it in the police force.  
Which was why he was sceptical when Georgi brought him a list of some of the people soon to graduate from the police academy from Yakov.  
“See how popular the case has become?” Georgi said with a smile, placing the sheet in front of Viktor. On it were three rows of names, filling up the pages. “These are all the new graduates from around the country who have applied to work in the force with you.”  
“Really?” Chris asked, completely bemused as he read the list upside down. “Some of their training scores are very high, they could be going to better places…”  
Georgi took a seat in the chair opposite Viktor’s desk. “Yakov said that too, but he also suggested that you consider taking on some since you’re down to the last two.”  
“He’s leaving it to me?” Viktor asked, bewildered, to which Chris chuckled and Georgi huffed.  
“Of course,” Chris said with a shake of his head. “You’re head of the investigation, remember?”  
Viktor blinked. He’d somehow forgotten about that.  
He scanned the list of names again, looking carefully at their training scores. It was organised from highest to lowest, and Viktor had to admit that these future graduates would be very useful in the case…  
However, the name at the very top of the chart caught his eye. It was a foreign name, maybe Japanese, with a very high mark indeed. But it was the way it sounded on his tongue when he mouthed it that seemed familiar.  
“Chris,” he said, looking up. “Why does Kenjirou Minami sound familiar?”  
It was the distasteful expression on Chris’ face that made him remember. He was the boy with the two-toned hair, the one who had witnessed the heist. The one Eros had winked at. The one who hadn’t quieted down about it when he came to the station and had annoyed Chris to no end…  
“Don’t tell me he’s on there!” Chris groaned, looking at the sheet. “I can’t interview him, let alone work with him!”  
“Still, he’s graduated very early,” Viktor said, looking at Georgi for an explanation as he was an admin.  
“He excelled in every course,” Georgi told him with a shrug. “Apparently he spent long weekends and nights going over absolutely everything that was required. He was so desperate to work in the case that he did everything he could. He has a fascination with Eros.”  
Viktor hummed, looking back down. Minami seemed to be not that dissimilar to him, though he arguably was a much harder worker. “How long have I got to decide?”  
“To the end of the day,” Georgi said immediately. “You can pick around five recruits. They’ll be offered a space since there’s so many, and if they don’t make it then it’ll be handed to someone else.”  
Viktor nodded and glanced down at the sheet again, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It was then that Chris sat up, stretching from his place on Viktor’s desk, and stood. He looked questioningly at Georgi.  
“Are you on your lunch break?”  
“I’m about to be,” Georgi said suspiciously, no doubt remembering what had happened when Viktor had asked him that same question. “Why?”  
“Good!” With that, Chris pulled Georgi to his feet and steered him out the door. “You’re coming with me to get coffee so that Viktor can focus.”  
The door was shut before Georgi could protest, and Viktor was left in the quiet. Nevertheless, when he read the names, he just couldn’t focus. Minami’s name had brought up memories from just after the heist, when he had first wondered who had made the names for the others. It seemed like so long ago now. How much times had changed.  
His attention was diverted away from the paper and to his computer. Since Chulanont had slipped up on one of his reports on the Eros investigation, maybe, just maybe, something else could give him a clue to Pragma and Eros’ whereabouts. As he worked with Lee, there was a possibility he could find something on him too. It was a long shot, but Viktor’s mind was frazzled and he needed a distraction.  
He unlocked the computer and typed in Chulanont’s name in the search bar. Over 40,000 results came up and he clicked on the first one, Chulanont’s online blog page – ‘phichit+chu’ – where he did all of his work. With a languid sigh, he began looking through all of the reports.  
Chulanont had been running this account since he was sixteen, so there were hundreds upon hundreds of stories ranging from sports to crimes to hamsters. He didn’t seem to specialise in one field but many, and it was clear that he adored what he did. His reports always got good reviews and there were many fans both in and outside the world of journalism that adored him. It was such a shame, Viktor found himself thinking, that he was Philia. He had a career, money, fans, and was loved, yet he turned to a life of crime.  
And it made Viktor wonder. Just how did he get into that mess in the first place? What could Eros possibly offer him that he didn’t have already? It was very strange…  
Viktor had been so lost in thought that he almost missed it. If he hadn’t had caught the name he would’ve continued scrolling, and with confusion tugging his lips into a frown he wasted no time in pulling up the page.

Suddenly, he forgot to breathe.

  
  
RISING SKATER YUURI KATSUKI – A THEME OF LOVE OR AMBITION?  
  
By **phichit+chu** {28/9/2013}

  
  
  
The article was old – dated back to just after Chulanont had just begun his career in journalism, meaning it was one of his first reports. The topic shouldn’t have been particularly surprising – after all, Yuuri himself had said he was popular in his younger years. It was even complete with a picture of Yuuri in comfortable training clothes, readying himself in preparation for a jump. He looked as beautiful as ever on the ice, with his expression focused and determined like he was in his own world, but weight still settled heavily in Viktor’s chest.  
Something didn’t feel right.

  
  
_Rising figure skater, Yuuri Katsuki {pictured left} is arguably one of the most popular figure skaters in the entirety of the figure skating world, at only aged 19. After an impressive last performance in the ISU Junior Grand Prix series and World Championships with his theme of ‘innocence’, claiming gold in both, he has worked his way up to the Senior division. Though the last two years have broken his streak of golds - the first in the 2011-2012 season when he missed out on bronze by a hair’s-breadth, and then in the 2012-2013 season with a silver medal, he plans to make a comeback. Already, he has topped the Japanese Figure Skating Championship with an impressive performance that had everyone on the edge of their seats, and has announced this year that his theme for the upcoming competitions will be ‘love’._  
_In regards to his theme, Katsuki stated, “I’ve been helped by many people in my skating career thus far, but I’ve never thought about ‘love’ until now.” He then went on to announce; “now that I know what love is and am stronger for it, I’ll prove it to myself with a Grand Prix Final gold medal!”_ _  
Though this is a bold statement considering his failure to achieve gold in the senior division, Katsuki has been commended for it, most noticeably by his fellow skaters and peers. The skating world has high hopes for Yuuri Katsuki and wishes him luck in representing Japan in this season. With this theme, he will be competing in the Cup of China, followed by Rostelecom and then the Grand Prix Finals if he remains optimistic, skating firstly to ‘In Regards to Love: Eros’ for his Short Programme and then ‘Yuri on Ice’ for his Free Skate…_

  
  
Viktor’s heart was pounding. His chest rose and fell rapidly along with his breaths as he stared at the screen, frozen in place.

This wasn’t right.

Such an unassuming article, a well deserved triumph - but not that date, not that author, not that choice of music!  
With a cry, he pushed back from his desk, but with the abruptness of the action the chair fell over backwards and he was sent sprawling to the floor. He lay there for a good half minute, heart beating fast, sweat beading across his forehead and his palms.  
No, this couldn’t happen. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way.

It had to be a coincidence. Yes, a coincidence. How silly of him to think -

He took a few deep breaths, fighting back the rising panic.  
It couldn’t be Yuuri. He was too sweet, he was too kind, too humble; he was dating the head of the Eros Investigation! No matter how many times Viktor told himself, deep in his heart a sinking feeling weighed him down. It was just too coincidental. Too coincidental that this was reported by Chulanont. Too coincidental that this was dated just before the Eros gang came about. Too coincidental that it was him who just happened to be dating the lead detective…  
He heard Emil’s voice in his head, back from months ago; _“I’ve looked through everything, but nothing’s come up. The cards haven’t been used and there’s no security footage anywhere… Are you sure that he was robbed?”_  
Viktor let out a dry laugh. It made sense now. Of course he hadn’t been robbed. It had been a ruse.  
And he’d been using Viktor this entire time to see what was happening in the case.  
Viktor felt nauseous. There was an awful curling feeling in the pit of his stomach that worked his way up into his chest with a rising bubble of hysteria. The man he loved, the man he had given his heart to, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with was a criminal.  
Yuuri Katsuki was

Dreadfully

Horribly

Undoubtedly

Eros.

Viktor barely registered the cool slide of tears down his cheeks. He had pushed himself to his knees and was staring down at the floorboards in rapt desperation, staring at that awful rug that he had found in a garage sale a few days back on his way to work and haggled with the owner jokingly over for a few minutes, as if things like rugs and cold floors mattered, as if anything could matter outside of the numbness that had overtaken his heart.  
When the pain finally came it rose in a tidal wave, betrayal crashing over him and forcing him down onto the floor again. As he became lost in the current Viktor could do nothing but draw his knees up to his chest and sob into his palms. This pain was like nothing he had ever felt before, and the tears felt unnatural as they spilled down over his arms. Yuuri had broken his trust, broken his heart, broken him completely. And he had been stupid enough to fall for it - to fall for Yuuri.  
It was the worst kind of pain.  
The pain of loss and absolute despair.

 

* * *

  
  
Across town, Yuuri Katsuki sat with his back to the wall. His legs were drawn up to his chest, arms clenching tighter around them. He couldn’t remember when he had started trembling but now his whole body shook, tears wetting the corners of his eyes, his teeth biting painfully into his lower lip.  
This was it. He was all on his own.  
All of his friends, the people he had considered family, had been captured. Yuri, JJ, Otabek and Phichit were locked away in cells, no doubt as scared as he was, if not more. And it was all his fault.  
He’d been the one to take them in, promise them a better life from the awful ones they had, and send them on all those missions that he was too nervous to go on himself. He’d promised them he’d take care of them, would give them their fair share of money, and would protect them from harm.  
He’d betrayed their trust.  
That was, except one. Pragma. The only one Nikiforov hadn’t caught. Yet. He had been purposefully lying low, knowing that if he came out of hiding Yuri would have gone after him. But now that Yuri was gone, nothing was stopping him. He knew as well as Yuuri did that Yuuri would never go out and harm one of his gang himself. Not after all he’d done for them. He loved them after all, which was why he named them after the types of love in the first place; he thought of them all as family, and had chosen their names with special care and thought of the meanings behind them.  
However, now that the rest of the gang was out of the way, Pragma could finally get to Eros – to Yuuri. Yuuri was still unclear as to why he was doing this. He didn’t understand. Pragma was perhaps the last one he would have expected to betray him, since he came from such a bad life that if it wasn’t for the combined forces of Yuri and Otabek he’d likely be lying in a gutter somewhere.  
And finally, finally Yuuri had found someone. Someone who he loved and adored, right from his bad jokes down to his thinning hairline. Viktor Nikiforov was the first person that Yuuri had wanted to hold onto, but though he trusted Viktor, he knew he couldn’t tell him everything. Yuri had warned him not to get this far, as someone would get hurt, and he hadn’t listened. He had wanted to carry on pretending that everything was fine, that he wasn’t Eros and Viktor wasn’t trying to put him in prison. He had wanted to stay in that safe bubble they had created on the coffee shop dates, away from the rest of the world, where they could just be themselves. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Viktor, to break his heart. He loved him too much for that.  
Yuuri let out a choked sob and buried his face in his hands. What was he thinking? None of that mattered now anyway. His friends were locked away and Yuuri was next.  
And that wasn’t the worst of it.  
The message was still on his lock screen. Pragma had texted him from wherever he was hiding, and two simple words had been enough to bring Yuuri to his knees. He was worthless, wasn’t he? Using Viktor like this, and now, and now -

That wasn’t him, though. Years ago, when he was a frail creature focusing only on figure skating, that would’ve been. Competition made him heartless and vain, and he had carried that coldness through to when he had become Eros. He couldn’t afford to have feelings in such a dangerous lifestyle.  
But Viktor had changed him. Changed him to become someone who was sweet and kind and gentle. Someone that Yuuri once was, that perhaps he could have been. If things had been different. Yuuri had loved Viktor even more for being able to do that to him.  
If things had been different. Whatever chance he had of that was now gone. Lost to the wind. The time spent together didn’t matter anymore because now they were no longer lovers. They were enemies.  
Yuuri’s phone buzzed again with the two minute alert, and there sat Pragma’s awful message;

  
  
From : **xxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx** [15:12]  
  
He knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I am so so sorry about the level of angst in this chapter. Dynamic and I made it our mission to make it as angsty as possible, so I guess our mission was accomplished!  
> So, now Viktor knows the truth about Yuuri and Yuuri knows Viktor knows... The next chapters certainly going to be fun, isn't it?  
> I apologise for the false alert about Pragma! I know a lot of people were excited to find out who he is, but don't worry, the time has finally come! Pragma's identity will finally be revealed in the next chapter, so you'll just have to wait one more week! (Sorry!)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left kudos, comments and read it! I'm so glad you all are enjoying this - it's a lot of fun to write! It will also be the first fanfic I have finished in two years... I have a terrible habit of losing interest and leaving them half finished...
> 
> Anyway, I'll see you all next week!
> 
> Hasta luego,
> 
> ~ Charlie


	10. Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting a few trigger warnings here before you read, just in case (it will make sense later):
> 
> TW : Implications of attempted suicide  
> TW : Child trafficking mention  
> TW : Prostitution mention  
> TW : Abuse and neglect mention

It took hours for Viktor to recover.   
Throughout that time he was spun through a whirlwind of emotions; shock, disbelief, reluctance, until finally he was forced to accept the facts that were right in front of him. It made him doubt every conversation he’d ever had with Yuuri. Had it all been a lie? Who was he kidding – of course it had. He had just been playing with him, toying with his emotions and using him to gain information. Yuuri didn’t care. He never had.   
When Georgi and Chris came back they had tried to shake Viktor from his numb state, but their voices were only static in his tormented mind. He supposed that eventually one of them must have seen the screen open on the computer and made the connections, because all of a sudden the tone of their voices changed from concerned to sympathetic.    
And Viktor hated it.   
In that moment he hated his job, hated himself, hated everyone on the police force and everything about this messed-up world… Except Yuuri. He couldn’t hate Yuuri. Couldn’t ever hate Yuuri. He was far too precious to Viktor, no matter what he had done, which was a strange line of thought considering that it was Viktor’s job to hate and catch the criminals. But even before the police force he hadn’t hated Eros, he had admired him; how skilful and adept he’d been with no mistakes and no evidence apart from an eyewitness or two. Even more strangely, there was something weirdly endearing about Eros being Yuuri – that he’d been with the person who he admired greatly the entire time.    
That only left the question of why. Why would he do something like this? Viktor remembered him saying that he left skating due to his family’s financial crisis, but surely that wasn’t enough to turn to a life of crime! 

What about the others, too? Why had he taken the time to get them together – a mix of people from every aspect of the personality spectrum?   
He needed answers.    
And he was going to get them.   
When he eventually came around, he realised belatedly that he wasn’t in his office anymore. He was stretched out on a leather sofa with a blanket tucked around his prone form and a cooling cup of coffee on the table by his side. He took a few seconds to recuperate, looking around the small office before sitting up slowly. This was Yakov’s office – he remembered it from the first time he’d been interviewed, though he hadn’t been inside since. It hadn’t changed in the slightest: wooden floors, wooden table, wood panelling on the walls.    
He picked up his coffee and took a tentative sip, sighing contently when it wetted his parched throat. Crying hadn’t done anything but exhaust and dehydrate him, and he knew from the stinging of his eyes that they must be red-rimmed and puffy.

He startled at the polite cough behind him and turned immediately. Yakov was sitting in a leather armchair, fingers laced together and looking at Viktor with a softened expression. After a brief pause, Viktor delicately put his cup down and sat up fully, moving the blanket so that it was more comfortably wrapped around him.   
After looking at him expectantly, Yakov let out a languid sigh and leaned forward. It was clear he was choosing his words carefully. “We figured out what happened.”   
Viktor nodded solemnly, not trusting himself to speak. His throat was still tight, and he felt that he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he opened his mouth.   
“Firstly, I’m… I’m sorry that this had to happen to you,” Yakov continued, expression still gentle as he stared at Viktor. “But you know what this means, don’t you?”   
Viktor nodded. Yuuri was Eros, and because he was he would have to be detained, questioned and then sentenced with the rest of the gang. An indescribable pain welled up in his chest and his breath caught in his throat, but with great difficulty he willed himself to stay calm. He couldn’t show weakness now. He couldn’t show how much it hurt.   
Yakov sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I understand how hard this must be, and I will gladly get another member of the force to go and – ”   
“No.” Viktor was surprised by how harsh and cold the tone of his voice was. It didn’t sound like his at all, and even Yakov looked up in surprise.   
“No?”   
“I’ll do it.” With that, Viktor threw the blanket off him and stood up. He winced when his legs protested – he must have been asleep for a while – and turned to Yakov fully. “He’s my partner.”   
Something flashed across Yakov’s face, but he nodded and stood. “I’ll send the junior officers with you.”   
Viktor nodded solemnly, before turning and going towards the door. As he grabbed the handle, Yakov’s rough tone made him pause.   
“How do you know he’ll still be there?”   
Viktor didn’t look at him as he replied, shoulders tense and brow creased. “He will be. I know he will.”   
When Yakov didn’t say anything more, he opened the door to the office and stepped out into the adjoining corridor. It was early evening judging by the limited light filtering in through the windows, and the loud ruckus that usually filled the station was quieter. The daytime officers and detectives had undoubtedly gone home.   
He made his way back to his own office, and was surprised to see light beyond the frosted windows. He would assume that everyone had gone home, Chris included, but was pleasantly shocked to see that there was a small gathering inside; all waiting for him.   
“Viktor!” Mila greeted, standing up from the table she was perched on and giving him a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re awake, we were beginning to get worried.”   
Viktor loosely returned her hug, before his gaze travelled around the room. Emil was at a desk with his laptop, Georgi was seated in an office chair with one leg crossed over the other, Chris was spread over his desk as per usual, and there were two junior police officers that Viktor recognised from the heist investigation, though he’d forgotten their names.   
“Why is everyone here?” Viktor asked, bemused, as Chris sat up and gave him a wry smile.   
“We all figured out what had happened,” he said, drumming his fingers against the top of his thigh. “So we gathered here to discuss what to do about it.”    
Viktor didn’t want to discuss it. It was the last thing he wanted to do after such a huge shock, and Chris saw it in his expression immediately. He cleared his throat and stood up, going over to his friend and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.   
“Viktor… I know this is difficult, but you have to think logically. If we leave it for too long he’s going to get away, and then it will all be for nothing.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Viktor’s. “You know this, right?”   
Slowly, unsurely, Viktor nodded. Chris was right. He needed to push all emotions aside and think like a police detective – like the head of the Eros Investigation. Yuuri was his past now, he needed to think of the future.   
“Alright,” he said eventually, taking a step away from Chris to look around the room. “I’ll be the one to confront him. It's something I need to do. We need to figure out how to position everyone else just in case he decides to do anything dangerous. Has anyone got any ideas?”   
There were a few beats of silence, before the smaller junior officer stepped forward, albeit a little shyly at the attention.    
“Um, I have an idea.” He said slowly, a faint blush settling itself on his cheeks.  “Officer De La Iglesia and I had already planned something like this just in case it was ever needed to catch one of the Eros members. You can adapt it, if you want.”   
Mila laughed whilst the others in the room looked at them with shock and sat back on the table to face Viktor. “I did tell you that the case is very popular!”   
  


* * *

  
  
It was two days later that Viktor found himself at the beginning of the pathway leading up to Yuuri’s house. He felt sick to his stomach, anxiety clawing at his nerves and leaving him a mess. He wasn’t prepared for this in the slightest.   
He would have liked to have more time to comprehend everything that had happened, but if he didn’t act quickly it was highly likely that Yuuri would disappear. After all, all his cohorts apart from one had been captured, and since he never loved Viktor to begin with, what was keeping him there? The most logical conclusion that Viktor could come to was that he was using him to see where he was in the case and if he was close to figuring out who Eros was. It was just pure coincidence that he’d stumbled across that article and made the horrible connections.   
Some things still didn’t add up with the other members, though. It seemed all too coincidental, and there was still something wrong with the video of Lee and Chulanont. Chulanont had looked straight at the camera without so much as batting an eyelid. It wasn’t right, and Viktor wanted to know why. He wanted these answers and he was determined he was going to get them from Yuuri, if no one else.   
The street behind him was completely empty. As per the plan set by the two Junior officers, everyone stayed well back whilst Viktor approached Yuuri. He needed to confront him properly, with the others listening in on the small mic he had in his lapel. They had a warrant for arrest and to search the place, so everything would be fine.

Everything would be fine.   
He took a deep breath and stared up at the house with a melancholy feeling rising up in his stomach. The last time he’d been here everything was normal. They had made dinner together (an utter failure) and then spent the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa and watching horror movies. It seemed so far away now – like a distant memory from years passed, not a week or so ago. His heart ached for the normalcy again, because he knew as soon as he knocked on the door he would never again be able to go back to the life they had once had. There was no future for them.   
With one last sigh, he forced himself to continue up the path and to the front door. The paint was peeling and the brickwork was chipped and stained, and for once it wasn’t the humble and homely place he had known. It was cold and looming, and it embedded fear into the pits of Viktor’s chest like he’d never known before.    
He raised his hand and, after slight hesitation, knocked twice, before folding his hands behind his back and lowering his gaze resignedly to the floor. He wasn’t ready for this in the slightest, and he wished more than anything that he had declined charging head-on into confronting Yuuri.    
Then, the door opened.   
Viktor looked up slowly.   
There he was. Yuuri Katsuki, the mastermind behind the Eros gang, said to be the best criminal seen this millennia, a cold, heartless being who left no evidence of his crimes.   
Crying.   
For a moment, Viktor was frozen in place. Yuuri’s eyes were shiny with tears, and he was trembling all over. A range of emotions crossed his face when he saw Viktor, fear and anger and disbelief, and his mouth opened and closed a few times in stunned silence. Then, wordlessly, he stepped aside to allow Viktor inside.   
Viktor avoided looking at him and did just that, going straight through to the kitchen and standing by one side of the counter with Yuuri standing on the other side, cheeks pale and sickly and glasses slightly crooked on his nose, watching Viktor carefully. In that moment, there was nothing that Viktor wanted to do more than hug him tightly and coo that it would be alright, but that would be lying. That would also defeat his purpose being there.   
Yuuri broke the silence first. His words were barely audible, but they struck Viktor to the core.   
“How did you find out?”   
“You know?” Viktor responded softly. “How?”   
“Pragma.”   
Viktor frowned, but he answered regardless. “I was looking through Phichit’s blog and found an article about you. It’s not coincidence that your short programme was called Eros.”   
The look on his face made Viktor’s stomach knot uncomfortably, but before he could speak again Yuuri was talking.    
“Viktor, you…” he hesitated when his voice wavered, like he was just barely holding himself together. “You… This doesn’t change anything between us, does it?”   
Viktor had to laugh. He was aware that it sounded harsh, but what else was he supposed to do? He refused to break down and cry in front of Yuuri. Not after all of this.   
“Of course it does,” he said, voice low and even. “You used me to see into the case. It was all a façade.”   
The look on Yuuri’s face very nearly broke his resolve. It was a mixture of many things – betrayal, anxiety, anger, and an overwhelming sadness that made the tears slide down his cheeks once more.   
“No!” He spluttered, stepping forward and his hand raising as if he were trying to grab and hold onto Viktor. “No, I didn’t, I swear I - ”   
Viktor shook his head, stepping back towards the kitchen sink. “It’s too late.”   
“No – Viktor – listen, please – ”   
“You’ve been accused as Eros, and anything you say and do can and will be used against you - ”   
“Viktor, please! I love – ”   
“It’s over, Katsuki.”   
The silence that followed was one of the worst Viktor had ever experienced in his life. Yuuri stared at him with a completely broken expression for one long moment before he sniffed and buried his face in his hands, tears staining his cheeks. Harsh sobs wracked his frame, and he seemed unable to hold them back.   
Viktor could only stand there, watching him brokenly as cars pulled up outside and sirens blared, as the door was kicked down and officers rushed in, as Yuuri was taken away. He only moved when he felt a hand on his shoulder; Chris was there, wearing a thin-lipped smile.   
“Come on, let’s go.”   
Viktor couldn’t find the strength to return the smile. All he could focus on was the rough way they treated Yuuri, how they forced him into the pair of cuffs as he cried and quietly pleaded, calling to Viktor in the most vulnerable voice the Russian had ever heard.    
“Wait,” he said to Chris, pulling away to move back over to Yuuri. The Japanese man looked up, startled and afraid as Viktor stared down at him with a darkened expression. Without a word he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the black velvet box that he’d shown to Chris two weeks before, placing it down in front of Yuuri on the kitchen counter.   
He didn’t stay to hear what Yuuri had to say next, instead following Chris down the hall and out of the house. He wanted to get away from the dreadful place. He wanted to go home and forget about everything – about Yuuri, about the case, about the life he’d chosen. He wanted to forget the pained sobs that followed him out and to the car. He wanted to forget the tears that began running down his cheeks uncontrollably. He wanted to forget.   
Caught up in his own mind, he missed the faint triumphant smile that passed over Chris’ lips as he led him out.    
  


* * *

  
  
“Are you sure you want to do this?”    
Georgi hesitated by the interview room door, fixing Viktor with an unsure expression. Though he trusted him, love and anger could do many things to a person, and as Yakov’s underling - no, as a fellow policeman - he was conflicted as to whether or not he should let him go in there by himself.   
“Yes,” Viktor responded, eyes fixed on the monitors. “I want to interview him.”   
Georgi and Chris exchanged unsure looks, before Chris rolled closer to the monitors in his office chair, staring at them intently.   
“If you’re sure, Georgi and I can wait here and monitor it. If anything gets out of hand we’ll come in immediately.”   
“Thank you,” Viktor answered shortly. He wasn’t in the mood for any sort of talking. He was very much aware that his mood wasn’t the brightest or as cheerful as it could have been, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.    
Only a day had passed since the capture of Eros, and Viktor had completely changed. He kept his voice monotonous and face blank, spoke no more than he was required. He knew what he was doing from his own training, from how they had been taught to talk to witnesses and suspects. Yet although he recognised the defence mechanism in himself he did not halt it, and though he knew it wasn’t the best decision he couldn’t regret it. Not when he was the one who had insisted on interviewing Yuuri.   
It seemed like he was not the only one who had shut down. Yuuri stared unblinkingly at the opposite wall, expression unwavering but his face a sickly colour. There were dark bags under his eyes and his lips were drawn tight. He looked like a completely different Yuuri to the one Viktor had known.

Thought he had know.   
“Are you ready?” Georgi asked, hand on the lock. “Remember, call us if you need it.”   
Viktor closed his eyes for a moment before nodding, opening them again and walking inside. He didn’t meet Yuuri’s eyes until he was seated at the desk and the voice box was switched on, for fear that he wouldn’t be able to do it. Finally, slowly, he looked up. Yuuri was watching him expressionlessly, eyes lacking the warmth they once held. In its place was a coldness that seemed to bore through his soul.   
“Mr. Katsuki,” he began, disregarding Yuuri’s flinch and instead pausing to take a sip of water when he realised how hoarse he sounded. “You’ve been convicted of being Eros. Is this correct?”   
“Yes.” He didn’t even pause as he answered. Why would he? Everything was over. No matter what he did or said or thought it wouldn’t change anything.   
“You are the one that organised the crime?”   
“Yes.”   
“You are also the one who created the Eros gang?”   
“Yes.”   
There was a moment of silence before Viktor ignored the gnawing pain in his chest and leaned forward. If there was anyone he would be able to get this information from, it was Yuuri.    
“Why did you do it? I don’t understand. You said your family had difficulties, but why turn to a life of crime?”   
Yuuri was silent for a long while, so long that Viktor thought he wouldn’t answer. Eventually, however, he did, eyes lowering to the table as he opened his mouth and began to speak.   
“I’ve known Phichit Chulanont since he was born. He was the son of a friend of my father’s who lived in Thailand, and was passionate about journalism and social media and was always very good with computers. My father and his used to… well, they were criminals. Criminals who never got caught and eventually settled down into an honest family life. Then, when he was eight, his father and mother died in an accident and my parents took him in. We did everything together and he even moved to Detroit with me so I could get better at skating and carry on with school. When I had to give it up, we moved here instead.” He paused, glancing up at Viktor unsurely as the detective quickly got out a notebook and pen and began jotting things down.   
“Continue.”   
Yuuri hesitated, before taking a deep breath. “I met Yuri Plisetsky when he was ten, just after I had moved to Detroit at sixteen. Phichit and I happened to pass by where he was hiding from the police after taking some food to keep himself and his mother alive since she neglected him, and so I gave him some money. He insisted on repaying me somehow so I kept him close.   
“It was Yuri who found Otabek Altin a few years later.” He took a sip of water. “He was running some errands for me and came across evidence of a child trafficking scam. He didn’t say a lot about what happened, but he did tell me that he saw a boy not much older than him with them and wanted to help, so we ended up pooling our money together and buying him. Yuri took him home and taught him English and Russian, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. Otabek feels like he owes his life to Yuri for helping him. Since I was the one earning money from competitions I gave them a lot of it, and had to ask my parents for some too.   
“Because I kept asking for money my parents were struggling and eventually their business was going to go bankrupt unless I supported myself. So I had to give up skating when I was nineteen in order to get a fixed source of income, just after I won the Grand Prix Finals for the last time.”  Yuuri toyed with the hem of his shirt. “I gave money to Yuri and Otabek as well as kept myself and Phichit fed. It was difficult but I managed it as Phichit was helping too, and I wasn’t going to let them starve.     
“Then,” he continued solemnly. “I got offered a job here to teach younger children to skate. I took it and Yuri begged for me to take him and Otabek with me to get them away from his house, but there wasn’t enough money. So instead he pleaded with his Grandpa to work at his shop in the louder part of the city so that he and Otabek could come too. It was there in that city that we met Jean-Jacques Leroy.”   
Yuri hesitated at that, a frown overtaking his features as he stared at his water cup, lost in thought. “As you know, JJ Leroy was left with a failing business after his father passed away. He had to drop out of school to support himself and his mother, who then died of heartbreak a few months later. I found him by pure chance… I remember it clearly, even now.   
“I was walking through the city and was passing through an alleyway when I heard faint crying. I looked up and there he was, standing on the edge of the roof of one of the buildings overlooking the alley, and it didn’t take me long to figure out what he was going to do. I rushed up there as fast as I could and got there as he was about to…” Yuuri took another deep breath, letting it out shakily. “I… I managed to grab him. He looked at me with an expression that I’ll never forget, and I don’t think I could ever explain. I managed to get him back onto the roof before he started crying again, and he told me about his business. That there wasn’t enough money to support the business and to support himself, that he couldn’t do it, that he was terrified. So…”   
“You gave him some money too,” Viktor guessed, completely invested in the story. It sounded like something out of a fairy tale, but from the solemn expression on Yuuri’s face he could tell that every single word was true.    
Yuuri nodded in affirmation. “I gave him nearly all of my prize money to get his business started again on the condition he paid it back when he could. He lacked so much confidence I had to build him up again, but I think I went too far and turned him into a narcissist.” He smiled weakly, before his expression hardened. “Then Pragma. I found Pragma a few months before I turned twenty. He… he was being used for – um – sexual services. Otabek recognised him from the trafficking circle. It was Pragma who tried to protect him from being taken, but couldn’t. Otabek wanted to save him as repayment, so I complied.   
“There wasn’t enough money to buy him like we had Otabek, so we had to smuggle him out. It was awful, Viktor, the things they did to those children… but when the owners came looking for us, it was thirteen year old Yuri who threatened them into leaving us alone.” He glanced up wearily at Viktor. “I know how strange it sounds, but it's true.”   
Viktor simply nodded, trying to repress the growing ache in his chest. Yuuri had done this all out of kindness, simply because he wouldn’t see people starve and his parents’ business go under. He was… somehow touched.   
“And then I turned twenty and there wasn’t enough money anymore. The last of it had been used to help Pragma and I panicked, and Phichit and I were going to starve if I didn’t do something fast…”   
“So you turned to crime,” Viktor concluded, sitting back in his chair.    
Yuuri nodded. “I remembered things from my father's stories when I was little. He ran heists and all his crimes were as smooth as possible, and so I asked him. He wasn’t happy about it in the slightest, but understood my desperate need, especially when I told him I wouldn’t leave everyone and come home. So he helped design a plan.   
“It took a month to plan the Jewellery store heist and we carried it out in December just as the stocks were high. We spent hours making sure that everything went as smoothly as possible, and the others were willing to do it if it meant they’d have some money to live on. Phichit was good with computers so he hacked into the security system, Pragma could drive, Yuri and Otabek were small and flexible and could grab what we needed and run… it seemed like it could work. And then my father told me that we had to have pseudonyms to refer to each other by. Keep our real identities safe.”   
“And you used the name of your last skating competition song.”   
Yuuri sighed. “Yes. I’d done some research into Eros beforehand so I could prepare for the competition, and I thought that because there was six of us it would fit. JJ was undoubtedly Philautia, and I think he grew into that character even more after he got the name. Yuri was very unhappy with Agape, but he is a child and since he was stealing for an innocent reason I thought innocence suited him best. Otabek was given Ludus as he loved Yuri unendingly for saving what was left of his childhood. Then Phichit was Philia, as he was my best friend and someone I loved dearly. That left Pragma and Eros. It made more sense for Pragma to be Eros for a number of reasons, but he didn’t want it. He wanted to forget about his past and took Pragma instead. I became Eros. Just after the heist Pragma found someone and a year ago they got married, so I suppose it was fate. Then, as an afterthought, my father and Phichit wiped out any records of us so that it couldn’t be traced back and we couldn’t be found.”   
Viktor hummed, sitting back. Suddenly, everything made sense. It was definitely not what he was expecting though. He’d expected for Yuuri to talk about revenge, or greed, or something else. Anything but kindness. It was a cruel irony, he supposed.   
He also noticed how Yuuri refrained from using Pragma’s real name. He was only using the ones that he knew for certain that Viktor had caught. It was frustrating, but what else could he do?   
“I see.” He shuffled the papers together before going to stand up. “Thank you for - ”   
“Viktor!”    
He paused as Yuuri shuffled around, looking at him with pleading eyes. Viktor lowered himself back into the chair again, raising an eyebrow.   
“I…” Yuuri began. “That… that box. When were you planning on…?”   
Viktor sucked in a breath, avoiding Yuuri’s gaze. “Next month.”   
A few seconds of silence took over the room, as Yuuri reached up to scrub at the tears beginning to form in his eyes. Viktor found that he didn’t want to be near Yuuri any more that day. His anger at Yuuri had dissipated with the story, the turmoil which had been his emotions fading, and instead he felt a hollow feeling in his chest that he wasn’t sure he could heal.   
He stood up again and, without looking at Yuuri, he moved towards the door. Just as he was about to go into the adjoining room, the Japanese man’s voice stopped him once more.   
“Viktor.”   
The harshness of the tone made him glance over his shoulder.   
Yuuri was staring at him with a furrowed brow, eyes hard and thoughtful. “It was a pact made in our gang not to reveal the names of the others until they had been caught, and to say nothing of their past whatsoever. I’ve broken that vow already, but I won’t say Pragma’s name until you catch him.” He drew in a breath and let it out, choosing his words carefully. “But what I will say is this; be careful who you surround yourself with.”   
Viktor stood there for a moment before he nodded and moved into the adjacent room, closing the door behind him. Chris and Georgi were staring at him, Georgi with a frown and Chris’ face unreadable. 

“Well, that was certainly… enlightening,” Chris mumbled.   
  


* * *

  
  
A week later and Viktor’s mood hadn’t improved.   
He was still a lot colder than his cheerful self, and spent hours upon hours focusing on his work now that there was nothing to distract him. All of his friends – Georgi, Chris, Emil and Mila – attempted to find ways to cheer him up, but none of them seemed to work.   
But the thing that tugged at Viktor’s mind the most was Yuuri’s words. Be careful of who he surrounded himself with? It was undoubtedly some sort of clue as to Pragma’s whereabouts, but it confused him. Surrounded himself in which setting? His house? His favourite shop? It was preposterous to think that Pragma would be hiding in his place of work, that was ridiculous. Eros would be more careful than that.   
He wondered.   
“Let’s think about it,” Chris said one evening, looking at Viktor’s computer screen, sitting cross-legged on his desk. “Where could Pragma be? There must be something on him.”   
Viktor shook his head. “The others we came across by pure chance, Pragma could be anywhere. He could have even left the country.”   
Chris nodded solemnly with a sigh, tapping a finger against his chin. “Still, I think there’s something going on. Why would Yuuri give you a clue?”   
“I don’t know,” Viktor sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted, but his determination was stronger than before. He only had one criminal left to catch and catch him he would, even if it took the rest of his life and with no sleep.   
Chris gave him an uncertain look. “Viktor, you should rest.”   
“No,” he said firmly. “I’m staying late tonight as we’ve got the day off tomorrow. I want to find something.”   
“You’ll overwork yourself,” the other said quietly. “Then you won’t be able to do anything.”   
Viktor glanced up at him. Chris’ expression was soft with worry, no doubt concerned about how well Viktor was taking care of himself. Viktor had been neglecting himself since Yuuri had been taken in – there were bags under his eyes, his skin was paler, and he always looked a little ruffled no matter how tidy his appearance was. His health had really gone downhill.   
“I’ll leave after one more hour,” he promised and Chris’ expression relaxed.   
“Ok. Please do, I don’t want to come here and drag you back home.”   
Viktor snorted and light-heartedly pushed Chris, who rolled over and slid onto his feet.    
“If that’s so, I’m going to head home. My friend promised a movie night which I’m looking forward to.”   
Viktor smiled weakly, remembering his last movie night on Yuuri’s couch (and then floor) and how comfortable and relaxed he’d felt. He missed it like nothing else. “Have fun.”   
“Will do,” Chris said with a wink, picking up his jacket off his own desk and moving towards the door. He gave Viktor one last wave before disappearing, leaving the Russian alone in the office with only the faint murmur of the TV in the background to keep him company.    
Viktor sat back in his chair and stared at the wall, before his eyes trailed up to the TV when he recognised a voice. The programme Chris had been watching was about the Eros investigation and showed a picture of Viktor and Chris as the two who caught them. Underneath the announcer was the five pictures of the captured criminals, with one space free and a question mark in it to signify Pragma. Viktor watched it for a while, seeing how they had caught Philia, then Philautia, then Ludus, then Agape and finally Eros. It seemed like so long ago since the investigation first started and he’d been naïve to the case. Now look where he was.    
He let out a miserable sigh and watched as the programme showed an advert with JJ Leroy with his famous trademark of “it’s JJ style!”. Those would be taken off the air, no doubt. He wondered what would come of the company. Now that he knew about the background of the group, he saw them in a completely different light. It was strange to think that three years ago Leroy was going to throw his life away if it wasn’t for Yuuri’s kindness. None of them would be there if Yuuri wasn’t so kind, not Yuri or Otabek or Phichit or JJ or Pragma.    
The longer Viktor watched the advert, he realised that it was the same one that had first alerted him to JJ being Philautia. If Chris hadn’t been watching that, he would have missed it. The reporter went on to talk about how young Agape worked in a convenience store, with its name and his Grandpa’s face censored of course, and how the detectives had come across it by chance. If Chris hadn’t had wanted that cup of coffee, they wouldn’t –   
Viktor hesitated.   
Now that he thought about it, it was Chris who had wondered what made Eros choose his name in the heist crime scene. And… It was Chris who had left the file open on the page with Eros’ card on, which led to Viktor noticing the dates. It was Chris who also had been watching the advert that had made Viktor realise that JJ was Philautia, and it was Chris who had received the anonymous phone call. It was Chris whose behaviour had seemed strange after he realised Viktor had gone on a date with Yuuri. It was Chris who happened to see the sign outside the convenience store that Yuri and Otabek worked at. It was Chris who directed Viktor towards going on a date with Yuuri that nearly got him assassinated and led to finding Phichit. It was Chris who had taken a few days off work when it was down to Pragma, Eros and Agape, and who had stayed in the car or out of sight when it came to the capture of the members. It was Chris whose behaviour was salacious yet charming, who Yuri had glared at when he came into the store, who Yuuri had seemed anxious around.   
And it was Chris that had shoved his “friend” out of the way so quickly back at his home, like he was afraid of something.   
What if he had been afraid that Viktor would realise that the man he was living with wasn’t his friend at all, but his husband?    
Suddenly, words that Chris had said ran through his mind. A sentence that had seemed strange to Viktor at the time, when they had been discussing Yuuri, but now… now it made perfect sense.   
_ “That man is frustrating…”  _   
Viktor stared at the TV blankly, a cruel, cold fear clawing up his stomach. He was so, so foolish.    
_ “Be careful who you surround yourself with.” _   
The Russian let out a mournful groan and buried his face in his hands, body trembling upon the vivid realisation that he’d been betrayed once again. Firstly by his lover, then by his best friend.   
Christophe Giacometti was Pragma.   
He’d betrayed them all.   
  


* * *

  
Chris hummed happily as his husband played with the strands in his hair, running them through his fingers as they lay comfortably on the sofa. His cat shifted on his lap, making a soft noise that matched his own contentment. He’d been promised a movie night, and was delighted to have have such a luxury after a hard day at work.   
“Chris…” the brunet said softly, tilting his head so they could look each other in the eye. “Why do you insist on hiding your ring?”   
Chris smirked at him. “Jealous?”   
“No,” the other said quickly, averting his gaze. “I just… it just feels strange that we have to hide it. We’re married, aren’t we allowed to show that?”   
The Swiss gave him a soft smile, leaning up to kiss his forehead. “I don’t like it either, but we have to be careful, you know why.”   
The man sighed, going back to thread his fingers through Chris’ hair. “Yes, I do. I thought you said this will all stop soon?”   
“It will.” Chris reached inside his shirt to pull out the necklace around his neck, from which his wedding ring hung on as an alternative to wearing it on his finger. “Viktor’s found out about all of them except me, and Yuuri has finally realised what I was doing. I just have to not get caught.”   
“I hope you don’t,” the other said. “Otherwise I’ll be stuck with the cat.”   
Chris snickered. “Indeed you will, my love.”   
With that he leaned up again to kiss his husband, who grinned and laced their fingers together, moving so that they were pressed more comfortably together. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... And so Pragma's identity is revealed. Well done to the people who had an inkling it was Chris - you were right! I bet Yuri's dislike of him is clear now since he's working as an investigator of the Eros gang.  
>  Let me tell you, trying to direct the spotlight away from Chris was very difficult. It had to be written around the comments left, which was why I asked for them so much! There were a few hints throughout that it was him (the main one being that the Eros gang is the six finalists of Yuri!!! On Ice) but we tried to keep it relatively hidden. Did any of you notice that a lot of those 'pure chance findings' were because Chris had in some way or another initiated the train of thought that led Viktor to suspect people?  
> Anyway, I have some terrible news for you all in the fact that I'm away on holiday next week so next week's update will be moved to the week after! (Sorry!) If you guys have any questions though, Dynamic and I will be glad to answer!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos and read it - we couldn't have done it without you!
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> ~ Charlie


End file.
